Guilt Trip
by let's point out the obvious
Summary: An unpleasant conversation makes Kyle wonder if he's really been that good of a friend. KennyxKyle
1. Check the Fridge

South Park doesn't belong to me.

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The McCormick's pantry was a sad, lonely little place.

With just a box of cereal, a few packages of instant ramen and a plastic shaker of bacon bits laid out across the middle shelf, it had to be one of the sorriest collections of food Kyle had ever seen. Honestly, their school did better gathering Thanksgiving food items for the homeless each year.

With a sigh that he hoped wasn't too loud, Kyle grabbed the box of Fruity Pebbles knock-offs and shut the rickety pantry door.

"What the fuck? You're taking my food _again_?"

Kyle looked back at his host, the only blonde McCormick, sprawled across the living room couch.

"My blood sugar is low." He said with a shrug, ignoring the quiet, frustrated noises Kenny made in response.

Also, he was just kind of hungry. He could have been at home preparing himself a proper late-lunch, but if he went back home now his mother would likely skin him. She was in one of her moods today and Kyle did _not_ want to be around to witness any of her tirades or temper tantrums.

Hence, a visit to his good friend Kenny's house.

Gone were the days of refusing to come see Kenny in his ramshackle "ghetto" home. When they were kids, Kenny's family had been scary and his home lacking, and no one really wanted to spend the night, much less any time there at all. These days, no one was particularly bothered by Kenny's house. A few years of maturing had taught the boys that hanging out with your friends could still be fun, even without the latest game system.

Kenny's parents still scared the crap out of Kyle, though. Not to mention, they made him feel awkward and slightly unwelcome. Kenny really only invited him over when his parents were out, and Kyle was completely fine with that.

"You know we don't have that much food." Kenny muttered, "What? Do you want me to be even more scrawny than I already am?"

Kyle could feel Kenny watching him as he poured multi-colored, heavily sugared pieces of cereal into a bowl, "You're not scrawny."

Just kind of thin, was all. It suited him, though. Kenny's body type wasn't meant to carry much weight anyway. He was just _kind of_ small and _kind of_ underweight.

And now Kyle felt guilty. Great.

"I'll buy you more cereal if you want, dude." He offered, already on his way to the fridge to get the milk, "I just really need to eat something right now."

They were kind of running low on milk, too. Kyle began making a mental grocery list.

He poured a little bit of milk into his bowl of cereal, not wanting to steal all of it, then capped the half-gallon container and put it back in the fridge where it belonged.

"Fine, fine." Kenny said, sounding somewhat exasperated, "But really… I don't see why you can't just go into a coma, or whatever it is you do."

Kyle flipped him off from behind the fridge and the answering laughter assured him that Kenny had seen. After grabbing a spoon out of the drying rack beside the sink, Kyle made his way back to the living room and flopped down onto the couch beside his friend, narrowly missing Kenny's legs.

They were quiet for a while, Kyle focusing on mixing his cereal into the milk to get it evenly moistened, and Kenny still smirking over the small victory of irritating Kyle.

Then,

"You don't have to buy me cereal, you know."

Kyle looked up and into Kenny's eyes. Seeing them looking suddenly cold and serious was startling, and Kyle wasn't sure how to react.

"I know." He said as nonchalantly as he could.

But he would anyway.

Kenny's expression softened and he smiled slightly. He pulled his legs up to his chest, arching his back as he stretched and re-positioned himself.

For being so old and beaten up, the McCormick couch was pretty comfortable. It was a little ratty in places, but Kyle guessed that just gave it character or something gay like that. It was just as familiar as the couch in the Marsh's living room, or the couch that had been in his own family's living room up until the time when Ike hit his head on the hard, wooden base and their mother freaked out and insisted on replacing all the living room furniture with big, obnoxiously fluffy grandma-style stuff.

Kyle still kind of missed that old couch.

Halfway through his cereal, and a replay of a fond memory of Cartman falling off that old couch and landing in a bowl of popcorn, Kyle looked up at the sound of his name.

Kenny was staring at him with that serious look again and Kyle knew instantly that he was fucked.

"Does it bother you that I die all the time?"

Oh man. This _really_ couldn't be good. Kenny never got like this. Not unless something was really bothering him, and something obviously was. But what exactly was he getting at with a question like that?

"What…do you mean?" Kyle asked, unable to keep from cringing a little. He knew that aside from an occasional angry outburst, Kenny usually liked to play the passive-aggressive game. This conversation felt like the perfect passive-aggressive trap.

"Exactly what I said." Kenny frowned in just such a way as to suggest that Kyle was currently failing whatever test he was being put through.

"Eh…." Kyle played with the cereal left in his bowl, searching his brain for the right thing to say, "It doesn't…_bother_ me. I mean, like, it doesn't annoy me, if that's what you mean. I know you'll always come back, so…."

That was what Kenny meant, right? Kyle looked to his friend questioningly.

Shit, that was _not_ a happy smile. That was a 'please fuck off and die' smile.

"Well, as long as I'm not inconveniencing you."

Shit, shit, shit.

"Aw, c'mon, dude. I didn't mean it like that."

Kenny looked back at him expectantly.

Goddamnit. Why wasn't Stan the one doing this? Stan was always so much better at talking to people, calming them down. Hell, he always worked wonders on Kyle.

"I mean…well…fuck. What do you want me to say?"

Kenny wasn't making this easy for him. Kyle wasn't even sure what he'd done wrong to begin with. Kenny didn't really care that much about the cereal, did he? Because Kyle would gladly give it back to him if only he could.

"Do you care when I die?"

Kenny said the words slowly, with an even tone. He didn't even sound angry, but Kyle knew better. Somewhere, deep down, Kenny was furious.

Before the question had time to really sink in, Kyle was answering with an enthusiastic, "Yes!"

And Kenny just kept staring at him.

"What? Dude, Kenny, I really do care!"

Kenny stopped staring.

"Oh my god, they killed Kenny!" he mocked, holding his hands up as though shocked, then jerked one arm forward, pointing at a random point on the wall, "You bastards!"

Kyle could feel himself blushing as he averted his eyes, staring down into the sugary, pulpy mess that used to be his cereal. He didn't even want to think about how Kenny knew about that. The whole idea brought on questions about the afterlife that Kyle simply didn't want to try to answer right now.

"We really do care." He said lamely, "You just…you die, like, every two days, you know?"

Kenny scoffed, hunching over with his arms folded across his knees, hiding his face in the sleeve of his jacket, "Still dead."

The muffled sound of the words reminded Kyle of a younger Kenny and only served to make him feel like more of a dick.

"We…we can't be in _mourning_ every day." He said quietly.

Kenny was being unreasonable if he thought his friends should be sobbing over his corpse every five seconds. Sure, Kyle was always a little upset when his friend died, but he _always_ came back. By now, tt was a natural thing for them.

After a long silence, Kyle heard a mumbled, "I know."

Sighing, he placed his bowl of cereal-mush on the floor and turned around to fully face his friend.

"What do you want, then?"

There was another mumbled response and it took a moment for Kyle to decipher it. He'd gotten a little rusty at understanding muffled-Kenny over the years.

"Show we care? Dude, at least we take notice. I mean, pretty much everyone else ignores that you die all the time."

Kenny's 'hmph' of a response poked Kyle's quick temper teasingly.

"At least Stan and I _say_ something, I mean, the fatass doesn't even-"

Kenny moved to quickly unmuffle himself.

"I'm not saying you're worse friends than Cartman, I'm saying you all fucking suck!"

Kyle could feel that his mouth was still hanging open but he didn't care to shut it.

Owch.

Talk about an angry outburst. That one had kind of hurt. A lot.

And apparently Kenny realized it, because he made short work of sitting up and looking apologetic.

"Dude, I didn't really mean that."

Kyle finally closed his mouth and swallowed, "Yeah…I know."

Too late, though. The damage was done. Kyle officially felt like shit.

Kenny spoke quickly and quietly, still hugging his knees to his chest.

"Seriously, I didn't mean that. You guys are my best friends- the best friends I could ever ask for. I just get frustrated 'cause I die all the time and no one notices, you know? I mean, when I come back, it's like I was never gone. My parents act like nothing ever happened, and then when I go to school teachers just tell me off for being absent, even though I was fuckin' _dead_." He smiled a small smile that looked ridiculously innocent placed under the smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose, "You guys really are the only ones who care."

Kyle knew that Kenny was trying to make everything better, to seem happy and content and not at all like a whiney little emo kid, but he couldn't shake what had already been said. Kenny was disappointed in him as a friend. He wasn't doing a good enough job.

They were both pretty surprised when suddenly, out of nowhere, they were hugging. Kyle had his arms wrapped tight around Kenny's thin shoulders and the blonde boy was trying to find a place to put his own arms that wouldn't make this seem any gayer than it already was.

"Um…."

Kyle silenced Kenny by tightening his hug.

"I'm sorry, dude. Really. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel insignificant, or like I didn't care, because I do. You're one of my best friends and I never meant to make you feel like you didn't matter."

Kyle's chest hurt a little and he felt like a dork for doing this, but he thought it was the right thing to do. He'd hurt Kenny's feelings, and now he had to make up for it.

Kenny murmured a 'thanks' into Kyle's shoulder, and after the hugging became too awkward for either of them to bear, they released each other and Kyle scooted back to the other side of the couch.

"You didn't have to do that, you know." Kenny said, glancing sideways to meet Kyle's gaze across the couch.

Kyle shrugged his shoulders, "Yeah, but I wanted to. I at least owe you a hug, right?" He smiled, embarrassed, and added, "Just don't tell the other guys, okay?"

Kenny grinned back at him, raising his eyebrows teasingly, then gave his friend a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"I won't mention it."

Of course he wouldn't. Neither of them wanted to be made fun of for hugging like a couple of girls. They'd keep this between themselves, the way moments like that were meant to be kept.

"Cool." Kyle said as he got up and grabbed his cereal from off the floor, "Anyway, now that that's over with, let's go do something."

He walked the few feet into the kitchen to drop the bowl and spoon in the sink, hearing Kenny call after him, "Like what?"

"Like…I don't know. You want to go see a movie?"

Kenny cocked his head to the side, looking confused.

"A movie? I don't think I can."

Kyle shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged his shoulders, "I can pay for you. If you want.

Kenny eyed him suspiciously for a moment before nodding.

"Okay. I guess a movie sounds good." He chewed at his lower lip, considering the plan at hand, before adding, "If you really don't mind…."

Kyle removed one hand from his pocket to wave it at Kenny, blowing off his concern.

"Nah, it's cool. Now c'mon, let's go."

A minute later they were out the door, on their way to forget about any arguments that might have taken place over an afternoon of overpriced candy and crappy action movie excitement.

Kyle Broflovski's guilt trip had begun.

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Second chapter is on its way~


	2. Without Even Taking A Break To Spit

South Park doesn't belong to me.

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Kenny McCormick had learned how to manipulate people at an early age. He had just the right kind of pout, and a knack for crying on cue that could get him out of almost any trouble. He'd originally developed his 'You're making me sad,' act at the age of three. When he realized that crying during one of his parents arguments would cause them to immediately stop fighting and run to comfort him, he knew he'd discovered something good.

Ever since, Kenny had been using sad, lonely looks to get things done and get what he wanted. Some of the effectiveness had been lost over the years, especially on his parents who thought he was too old to be such a crybaby, but he still found it easy to manipulate strangers in this way. It was somehow rewarding to heave shuddering sighs in front of middle-aged women in the food court at the mall, give them his sweetest, saddest smile when they asked him if he was alright, and walk away with trays of free food when they realized that he was just a poor, hungry little boy with no one else in the world and their maternal instincts took over and forced them to feed him.

Yeah, that always felt good. Like retribution or something. His life sucked and theirs didn't, so he deserved to get some of what they had. Manipulation via puppy dog pout was one of Kenny's favorite tools of the trade.

But for some reason, manipulating Kyle just felt wrong.

*

"It's not like I'm _trying_ to get him to buy me stuff, he just _does_."

Kenny talked to his brother from his bed, watching as Kevin stared at himself in their shared mirror and combed his hair into something that he must have thought looked really cool and stylish.

"What's it matter whether you're trying to or not?" Kevin asked with a shrug, "He's giving you stuff, right? So take it and shut up."

Kevin was a master of manipulation as well, but his methods differed from Kenny's. Whereas Kenny liked to find a nice stranger to pout in front of and scam free food, or a dollar from time to time, Kevin sought out girls he could pretend to like. They were all perfectly willing to pay the bills for whatever their handsome new boyfriend wanted, and were either too dumb to realize they were being taken for a ride or too desperate for love to care. Kevin went through girlfriends like most people went through tissues, using each one and then tossing her aside once she'd failed to serve a purpose other than being a sweet girl.

Kenny thought it was just about the worst thing you could do, tricking people into loving you, _really_ loving you, then throwing them away. But what did he know? His whole family used dirty tricks to get what they wanted because that's what they had to do. And he could hardly hold it against Kevin to use his looks to manipulate women; they were really the only thing he had going for him.

"But I feel bad." Kenny sighed, staring up at a small crack in the ceiling, "He's my friend, and I feel like I'm using him."

Kevin scoffed and turned to the side, not to look at Kenny, but to continue checking his hair in the mirror.

"You're not using him. He's giving you shit that you're not even asking for, right?"

Now he really did turn to look at Kenny and waited for the younger boy to nod.

And nod Kenny did. It was true, he hadn't asked for Kyle to do anything for him. He'd just done it. Everything was a gift or a favor, all for no reason.

"No problem, then. He's just bein' nice."

Kenny couldn't help but notice the way his brother smirked as he said that.

"What?"

Kevin shook his head, snickering.

Kenny promptly picked up a pillow and threw it at Kevin, smacking the older boy in the hip with it.

Kevin glared at him, but at least seemed pleased with the fact that Kenny had avoided hitting his hair.

"Watch where you're throwin' things, asshole."

Kenny pouted, and despite having seen the same look from him hundreds of times before, Kevin was unable to keep from looking slightly abashed.

"Chill out, okay? I was just thinkin' maybe your friend is paying for you all your shit 'cause he wants to do you."

Kenny rolled his eyes and went back to studying the ceiling.

"Ha ha, very funny."

Kevin snorted and stepped away from the mirror, finally content with his appearance, "I thought it was."

He grabbed his jacket off the lamp he'd thrown it over and was halfway out of the bedroom door when Kenny called after him, 'Where ya goin'?"

Kevin didn't stop as he yelled back, "Lucy's!"

Kenny gave the ceiling a puzzled look.

"What happened to Katie?"

Kevin's voice rang from down the hall, "Bitch broke my fuckin' phone!"

Once Kevin was well out of ear shot Kenny felt safe in rolling over and saying to no one in particular, "She bought you that phone, dumbass."

*

Kenny had enjoyed a solid three weeks of getting free stuff from Kyle before anyone noticed.

The random purchases of ice cream, computer games and even a new pair of sneakers had all been kept under the radar and if any of their mutual friends had actually caught on to Kyle's sudden burst of generosity, they hadn't said anything.

Not until now, anyway.

Sitting at their designated cafeteria table amidst all the boys he'd known since pre-school, and a few oddly placed girls who had suddenly decided they were all kind of cool for no apparent reason (funny how girls did that,) Kenny watched the people around him eating lunch and cringed when he heard his own stomach rumble.

Stan and Kyle looked up at him in unison, their questioning expressions nearly identical.

"No lunch money, Ken?" Stan asked, smiling sympathetically. Stan was always good for sympathy- not so good for actually helping with anything. Or at least, he wasn't any use when it came to getting cash. His parents kept a strict watch on his spending and refused to give him any more money than he needed to buy lunch every day, probably for fear of him being talked into spending it on another cult experience.

Kenny shrugged his shoulders and smiled his usual slightly sad smile.

Kyle's hand was before him in seconds, outstretched, with a dollar and change laid out across his palm.

Kenny stared down at the money for a moment before reaching out to take it. With the cash in hand he allowed himself a curious look up at his friend.

Take the money first, ask questions later. Always.

"We've got gym later." Kyle said, as if this were and acceptable explanation.

With Stan and Kenny both staring at him in confusion, he sighed and elaborated with, "Mr. Asshole is going to make us run the mile, remember? If you go out running around on an empty stomach, you'll probably pass out."

Kenny's fingers closed around the money in his hand and he smiled down at his lap.

"At least buy some water or something." He heard Kyle say flippantly.

Kenny wasn't so much focused on the conversation at the table any more, though. He was preoccupied by the strange little bubbly feeling in his stomach, a fuzzy, pleasant sort of flipping of his insides that he couldn't remember ever feeling before.

To hear Kyle sound like he was actually concerned… it felt good.

"What's it matter if he passes out?" Cartman sneered, leaning into Kenny's line of vision from somewhere to the left, "He'll just die and come- "

His voice trailed off as he stopped what he was doing (i.e., writing all over Butter's arm in permanent marker just to see how permanent it really was,) and observed the situation at hand.

"The fuck?" he said loudly enough to make people at surrounding tables turn and glare at him, "Kenny, did Jewboy just give you _money_?"

Kenny merely smirked as he slid out of his seat and walked away from their table, towards the kitchen doors.

The sound of Cartman shouting something about breaking Jew code and Kyle's answering shrieks of protest faded into background noise as Kenny waltzed into the school kitchen like he owned the place and ordered himself a crappy little school lunch.

It wasn't good food or anything, but it was food. Even better, it was _free_ food. All warm and fuzzy feelings pushed to a subconscious level, Kenny grinned at the prospect of receiving free lunch from Kyle more often.

It wasn't bad of him to accept Kyle's money, right? Obviously Kyle _wanted_ to make sure he was fed and taken care of and all that, and it was only polite for Kenny to take whatever Kyle wanted to give him. Obviously Kyle was feeling bad about not caring enough for Kenny sooner, and was compensating him for everything now. So…it was okay to accept the occasional gift, especially if it was something that he really needed.

After paying the lunch lady with the money Kyle had so kindly given him, Kenny made his way back to their lunch table, just in time to get a taste of the chaos that had started while he was gone.

Cartman had come around to the other side of the table and now had Kyle by the shoulders, shaking him and repeating, "Remember what you are, Kyle! Remember what you _are_!"

Kyle wriggled in Cartman's hold, elbowing him in the side of the head as often as possible, while Stan half-heartedly tried to get the two of them to sit down and stop making a scene.

Kenny took a seat beside Butters and smiled to himself as he watched the blonde boy hold his arm out to Bebe, who dowsed his skin with nail polish remover and muttered complaints about Cartman's tendency to be a complete dumbass.

Once the noise had died down and Cartman had been subdued, Kenny cleared his throat just loudly enough to get Kyle's attention.

With Kyle's eyes locked on his, Kenny smiled wide and said, "Thanks, Kyle."

Then he sat back to enjoy his meal while Kyle's expression slowly morphed into the same one worn by every sweet, middle aged woman Kenny met in the mall food court.

_I did the right thing_, the look said.

_This is perfect for my karma_, the look said.

_I'm so happy that you're happy_, the look said.

And as Kenny bit into his second piece of shitty cafeteria pizza, he wondered if this was really manipulating Kyle. Because if it was, it didn't feel wrong at all.

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Are we having fun yet?


	3. Anything Can Be A Hat

South Park doesn't belong to me.

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Completely ignoring each other while being in the same room is the kind of thing only the best of friends can do successfully. With Stan surfing the internet for new music that didn't suck and Kyle idly flipping through Stan's health textbook and occasionally making snide comments about the uselessness of it, they were both completely content.

As per usual, the two were proving that their friendship was the very best and most super around.

But there was something of a disturbance in their uncommonly solid relationship: the issue of Kenny. Or, more accurately, Kyle's new obsession with Kenny.

"So you seriously went out and bought him new jeans?" Stan asked, eyes still glued to an online list of Indie bands that weren't too annoying for his taste.

"Mmhmm." Kyle hummed as he thumbed through a few pages to reach the chapter on maintaining healthy relationships.

A few seconds of page turning and mouse clicking passed before Stan asked, "Why?"

"Because he needed some." Kyle answered quickly, then held up the book in his hands, offering it to Stan, "Dude, check out this picture at the top. According to these people, a good, healthy idea for a date is to go horseback riding."

Stan swiveled his chair around to take a look at the offending photo and scoffed.

"When the hell is that picture even from, 1982?"

Kyle pulled the book back into his lap, smiling shifting, "The book's only a few years old. It might as well be from the 50's though, considering how much pertinent information it has."

Stan smirked, partly at his friend's use of the word pertinent (seriously, who the fuck else but Kyle would bother saying that something was _pertinent_?) and swiveled his chair back around to face the computer.

After clicking a link to a website containing song lyrics and fighting his way through a storm of pop-ups, he asked, "Did you really have to get him designer jeans, though?"

He'd been expecting a sigh, but there was silence behind him. Apparently he'd actually annoyed Kyle with his question.

Stan glanced back over his shoulder to look at Kyle questioningly, trying to show that he was honestly curious and wasn't just being a pain in the ass.

Kyle was flipping through the next few pages in the chapter he'd been skimming, acting as though he hadn't been staring angrily at the back of Stan's head moments before.

"They're not designer." He said snippily.

Stan quirked an eyebrow, his near-constant frown set in place, "Yeah…but they're not from Wal-Mart, are they?"

Kyle looked up to catch his gaze and put on a frown to rival Stan's own.

"It doesn't really matter where they're from, does it? Kenny needed jeans, I bought him some jeans. Big deal."

Stan rolled his eyes, not caring if Kyle saw. He hated it when Kyle got like this, all short-tempered and, for lack of a better word, bitchy.

"Yeah, but…dude, why are you buying Kenny jeans? Why are you buying Kenny anything?"

Kyle leaned further over the textbook, obviously trying to look very interested in something that was not the current conversation.

"No one else is going to." He said sullenly.

And Stan wasn't really sure how to respond.

It was true; no one else was going to buy Kenny new jeans, even if he desperately needed them. No one else was going to buy Kenny anything at all, actually. His family barely scraped by with what little money they had, and it wasn't like Kenny had anyone else willing to buy him things for no reason. It was just Kyle.

But why just Kyle? That's what Stan wanted to know. Why had his best friend suddenly decided that Kenny was a charity case worthy of his attention, rather than just a friend? It was obvious why Kenny was accepting everything Kyle gave him without a fuss: after all, who wouldn't? Some nice, fairly wealthy kid starts giving you stuff for no reason other than he wants to give you stuff- you'd have to be stupid to turn down the offer.

That didn't make it right, though.

"I'm just worried he's taking advantage of you." Stan said eventually, shrugging his shoulders. He regretted his phrasing instantly. Judging from the look on Kyle's face, he'd struck a nerve.

"He's a friend in need and I'm trying to help him." Kyle snapped, looking up at Stan with narrowed eyes, "What's wrong with that?"

Or maybe Kyle had completely missed the point and redirected his anger somewhere else. Typical.

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong with that." Stan put his hands up in mock-surrender, not wanting to anger his friend any more than he already had, "I'm just saying…look, dude. I don't know what made you want to be Kenny's savior all of a sudden, but you should seriously be careful. I like Kenny- he's a cool kid, but you know he's got to be looking out for his own interests. Being nice is one thing, but letting people use you is another." He smiled lopsidedly, looking apologetic, "Nice guys get taken advantage of."

Kyle stared him down for almost a full minute before scoffing and turning his attention back to the book in his lap.

"Pessimist." He muttered, but Stan could see that he was thinking hard about something.

Stan shrugged off the comment, deciding not to push the issue any further, and turned to continue scrolling through the lyrics on his computer screen.

"They don't even mention the possibility of people _not_ being heterosexual in here, can you believe it? Some kind of modern health class they're trying to teach…."

With a page turn and a mouse click, things swung back into order.

*

It was fast becoming a routine for Kyle to treat Kenny to something the day he came back from being dead.

Kyle was helping Kenny pay for small things on a daily basis: school supplies, lunch, a pack of gum, stuff like that. Whenever Kenny came back from the dead, however, it called for a special occasion. Like taking a kid out for ice cream after they skin their knees, each of Kenny's mysterious revivals was celebrated by a night out or a substantial gift.

After seeing Kenny suffer a particularly gruesome death by stampede, Kyle figured the least he could do was treat the guy to dinner.

Now the two of them were seated across from each other in one of the many booths of their local Ruby Tuesdays (T.G.I. Friday's had been out of the question since Kenny still held a grudge against the place thanks to a really unpleasant bout of syphilis) staring down at their menus.

"Any idea what you want?" Kyle asked, peering at Kenny from over the top of his menu.

The blonde looked up briefly but didn't make eye contact as he shook his head.

"No…You?"

Kyle wondered if Kenny was nervous or bored or annoyed or- anything at all. It was hard to read his expression, especially when he hid half of his face behind a laminated menu.

"They've got this Parmesan chicken thing I like…."

Kyle shrugged his shoulders and set down his menu. His mind was already made up, and besides, he was more concerned with what Kenny would be getting than he was with his own food.

Kenny made a quiet, thoughtful noise as he browsed his meal options again, though he didn't really seem to be paying attention to what he was reading.

"You sure this is okay?" he asked, looking up with a mildly concerned frown creasing his features, "I mean, you taking me out to dinner and all…?"

Kyle smiled warmly at him and shook his head.

"It's fine, Kenny. I don't mind paying, really."

The fact that Kenny asked was good enough for him. Take _that,_ Stan Marsh. No way was Kyle Broflovski getting taken advantage of.

"Oh, okay…."

Kenny's response was calm enough, but the smile that spread to light up his whole face made Kyle feel like the king of the world. Leaning on one hand, Kyle watched Kenny just being happy like it was the most entertaining thing on the planet. With his pretty blue eyes and that perfectly innocent collection of freckles, Kenny could win anybody's heart.

"I was kind of thinking I've always wanted to actually order a steak." Kenny mused, a small smile still tugging at the corner of his mouth.

How could Kyle possibly say no?

*

Toward the end of their meal, as Kenny and Kyle finished sucking down the last of their watered-down sodas and whispered jokes about how unbelievably huge their waitress's ass was, a blue and blonde blur flew past the window to their left, screaming as it went.

They both turned to watch the all-too-familiar blur make its way across the parking lot of the restaurant, a small pack of snarling, yapping neighborhood dogs following close behind, and stumble into a conservatively landscaped bush.

"Goddammit, Butters!" shouted an equally familiar voice outside, "You were supposed to let the dogs catch you back at the stop sign!"

Kyle and Kenny watched as Cartman came huffing and puffing into view, coming to a halt just outside the window beside their table.

Kyle looked up to see Kenny grinning at him from across the table. He watched, amused, as Kenny leaned across the table and rapped his knuckles against the glass loud enough to shock Cartman out of his fuming.

"The fuck?" the pudgy boy exclaimed, turning around to see his two classmates sitting inside.

"Hey Eric!" Kenny said cheerfully, waving to Cartman through the window.

Kyle laughed at Kenny's sunny expression, separated from Cartman's baffled, still-angry face by just a few inches and a plate of glass. Cartman's eyes went wide as he stepped back, looking from Kenny to Kyle and back again.

"What the hell are you gaywads doing?" Cartman demanded, his voice distorted by the windowpane between them, "Going on a _date_?"

He seemed honestly disgusted, and as Kenny and Kyle's smiles fell in unison. Everything was suddenly serious and the people in the restaurant were looking at them sort of funny and Kyle felt incredibly awkward and self-aware.

This. Was not. A date.

Kenny must have noticed Kyle's discomfort, or maybe he'd just realized that Cartman was gearing up for a round of insults, because he tugged on the cord of the blinds, lowering them noisily.

Problem solved.

But Kyle still felt weird, even after Cartman's indignant complaints died away and the restaurant was left in peace.

"This wasn't a date." Kyle said bluntly, and was relieved when Kenny laughed, albeit a bit nervously.

"'Course not." He agreed, smirking, "Friends can go out for dinner without it being gay."

Kyle nodded, muttering, "Fatass is just sexually repressed or something."

Leaving the appropriate cash on their table, Kyle got up and motioned for Kenny to follow him.

The two walked out of the restaurant together, Kenny grabbing a few complimentary mints on the way out, and made their way to the car Kyle had convinced his dad to let him borrow for the night.

"Seriously though, dude." Kenny started as he opened the passenger side door, "At the risk of sounding really fuckin' gay and making this seem like a date…thanks. A lot. This was fun."

Kyle shrugged it off like it was nothing, slid into the driver's seat and grinned at the victory music playing in his head as he started the car.

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This chapter was kind of tough, for some reason. The next one should be much more fun (I hope.)


	4. I'm Not Gonna Kick You in the Head

South Park doesn't belong to me.

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After the harrowing experience of being kidnapped by pig farmers and accidentally knocked into a meat separator, Kenny was relieved to be home. He took his shoes off at the door, tossed them into a pile with the rest of his family's and went to the kitchen, peering in to see his mother flipping through a booklet of grocery store coupons.

She glanced up at him and smiled, looking relieved. "Oh, Kenny, you're alive. I thought we was gonna have to call the cops again."

Kenny rolled his eyes and waved at his mother as he walked away, down the hall toward his bedroom.

He always half-wished that people would ask him what had happened, just so he could divulge the gory details. But no, they never did. He didn't blame them, really. Who wanted to think about that kind of crap if they didn't have to?

The sight of a small lime green square in the middle of his bedroom door caught him by surprise. What the hell…? A post-it note? He pulled it off the door and read it, his confusion lifting.

'_Heard you were dead again, sorry I missed it. Call me and we'll hang out when you get back, okay?'_

Kyle had put his name at the bottom of the note but the signature was uncalled for. Kenny already knew it was from him. Who else would think to leave a note for him while he was temporarily dead? Anyone else would just ignore his absence until he decided to show up in school again.

Looking at the slip of paper in his hand, Kenny was suddenly and inexplicably overwhelmed with happiness and had to literally run inside his room to keep anyone from hearing as he let out a choked, squeaky little noise that might have been mistaken for a giggle by someone who didn't recognize Kenny's considerable manliness.

Feeling like a complete dork, he tucked the post-it under his mattress, the only place he figured it would be truly safe, and flopped into bed to get some much needed sleep.

*

Two days later Kenny found himself standing on the doorstep of the Broflovski residence, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he waited for someone to come and let him in.

Sheila Broflovski was the first to reach the door and yank it open, staring out at him with a pleasant expression that looked only slightly forced.

"Oh, Kenny!" she greeted him enthusiastically, "Good to see you're okay, sweetheart. Kyle told me all about that _awful_ accident. Absolutely terrible!"

She stepped aside to let Kenny come inside, maneuvering her ample hips out of his way.

"Honestly, something should be done about people like that. To think they can endanger innocent people just because they're a bunch of greedy little corporate snots trying to _poison_ our community- it makes me sick!"

Kenny toed off his shoes and placed them neatly beside those already lined up at the door, smiling to himself.

Listening to Kyle's mother go on like this, Kenny wondered why people hated her so much. She was kind of a nice woman. A little overbearing, sure, but her heart was in the right place.

"Your parents _are_ going to sue, aren't they?"

Kenny rolled his eyes while he was safely out of Mrs. Broflovski's view, then turned and answered with a quick, "Yes, ma'am."

Of course his parents were going to sue. How else would they pay the electric bill next month?

"Very good!" Sheila said with a nod, and then finally got to the part of the conversation Kenny had been waiting for since he came inside, "Oh, but I don't want to keep you down here listening to me. Kyle's upstairs, honey, go right on up."

"Okay, thanks." Kenny said over his shoulder, and was on his way up the stairs a second later.

Halfway up the stairs, Kenny glanced back and caught sight of Mrs. Broflovski eyeing his new sneakers, a disapproving sneer curling her upper lip.

Ah, that's right. Now Kenny remembered why people hated Kyle's mom- because she was a big, fat, intrusive, judgmental bitch. But Kenny could hardly hold it against her. She was probably wondering if he'd stolen them, and frankly he wouldn't put it past himself.

Kenny opened Kyle's bedroom door without knocking, as was the custom among teenage boys with no consideration for other people's feelings or opinions, and saluted his curly haired friend.

It wasn't often that Kyle could be seen without his hat, but since he had been alone in his room not five seconds ago, he'd probably thought it was safe to set his wild hair free for a while.

Kenny chuckled to himself at the sight of a very surprised Kyle nearly falling out of a rolling chair, hair disheveled, a pair of reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose.

Aww…Kyle had _glasses _now, too? Poor kid was just a mess of health issues, wasn't he?

"Kenny? What the hell- you didn't call me!" Kyle was pulling his glasses off as he spoke, tossing them somewhere out of view as if he could pretend that they'd never been there.

Kenny shrugged his shoulders and took a moment to shove his hood all the way off his head, "So?"

Kyle's cheeks became slightly flushed as he ran his fingers through his hair, crushed down the curls in irritation, then got up to search his floor for something. Kenny could only assume he was on the lookout for his hat.

"So I wasn't ready for you to come over." He muttered, snatching a piece of clothing off the floor beside his dresser, then, after realizing that it was a shirt and not a hat, tossing it over his shoulder.

"Soundin' like a girl, dude." Kenny sing-songed at him as he took a seat on the edge of Kyle's bed. Funny how Kyle's room was ridiculously tidy in places, the bed and desk for example, and a complete wasteland of crap everywhere else.

Kyle flipped him off as he dropped onto his knees, ducking under his desk to continue his hat-quest.

"How the fuck did it get under here?" he said as he dragged himself back out from under his desk, hat in hand.

Kenny watched Kyle stuff the hat back onto his head and was only slightly sad to see the unruly curls vanish once more.

They were kind of fun to look at, and Kenny wished Kyle would get over himself and let them show every once in a while. It'd keep Kenny amused, at least. Maybe he could even pass some time pulling on the individual curls to see how quickly they'd spring back into place. Kyle _did_ sit in front of him in a few classes…it'd be too easy.

"So what do you want to do, anyway?"

Kyle's voice snapped Kenny out of a mini-fantasy he'd been enjoying: one in which he, Stan and Cartman all took turns tugging on Kyle's hair, laughing together as the redhead became more and more irritated. Annoying Kyle was fun….

"Hm?" Kenny looked up to see Kyle standing with his hands on his hips, staring at him expectantly, "Oh, eh…I don't know. I just thought I'd come over and hang out."

Kyle looked confused for about a half a second, then nodded.

"I guess that works." He said thoughtfully, "If you don't mind sitting around and doing nothing, I mean. My house is kind of boring as hell."

Kenny smirked up at him, an eyebrow quirked as if to say, 'And the rest of town is an exciting wonderland of adventure?'

Kyle scoffed at the look and threw himself onto his bed, lying down beside Kenny with his legs hanging half-off the mattress.

"At least there are things to do outside. We could actually go somewhere, you know."

Kenny briefly considered the places they could go, all the places they'd been to before. He could get Kyle to agree to take him anywhere, do anything, and pay for it all, but for the time being, Kenny just wasn't feeling it.

"Nah, let's just hang out here." He said decisively, and although Kyle didn't look entirely pleased by that plan, he made no further moves to take their party elsewhere.

But there was nothing wrong with just hanging out in a friend's bedroom. That's what Stan and Kyle spent half their lives doing, right? That was their best friend time with each other. And while Kenny didn't necessarily qualify as Kyle's best friend, he was a friend, and he thought that earned him the right to spend time doing nothing at Kyle's house.

And they did, in fact, do a whole lot of nothing.

The pair spent nearly three hours in Kyle's room, taking turns trying to irritate each other, making stupid jokes and simply shooting the breeze. Conversation, Kenny thought, was better than seeing another crappy movie. Although in retrospect he should have made Kyle buy him some candy first.

All things considered, though, Kenny was enjoying himself, candy or not. He liked spending time with Kyle, even if all they were doing was sitting around and talking about stupid crap.

And maybe some serious crap.

"They should seriously pay more attention to you." Kyle finished his current tirade with a hurrumph, arms crossed in anger.

The redhead had just ranted for a full minute and a half about the importance of familial relationships, how lacking a bond between parent and child could seriously fuck a kid up, saying that was the reason so many kids they knew were as messed up as they were, because they all had issues with their parents.

Kenny wasn't about to disagree with him, mostly because he didn't want to get yelled at, but also because it was probably true. Making a mental list of all the kids he knew, Kenny could see how the screwy relationship between parents and children in their town was having a bad effect on the youth. Stan's overwhelming pessimism, Cartman's ever-hungry ego, Tweek's, well, Tweekiness, Craig's detachment, Kyle's constant overcompensation to be heard, and Butters (Kenny didn't even want to think about Butters' problems) could all be traced back to issues they had with their parents.

Not to mention Kenny's own feelings of worthlessness and, well- no need to go into that. It'd just make him mopey, and Kenny didn't like to mope in front of Kyle unless he wanted something.

"Nothing I can really do about it, though." He said in response to Kyle's rant, "It's just the way they are and they're not going to change."

Kyle, laying on his stomach and propped up on his elbows, shook his head.

"You should _make_ them pay attention to you, dude."

Kenny rolled his eyes and smirked.

How? By waving sparklers around in the living room? Offering a can of beer and a lottery ticket to whichever one of them would show him more love and affection?

"What about you, Kyle?" Kenny asked, fiddling with the zipper of his parka as he considered taking it off, "What are you doing to stop the Momzilla?"

Sheila was the source of any problems Kyle had. She had passed along a handful of personality traits that enabled Kyle to be just as pushy and headstrong as she was, but kept him trapped under her control to the point that he was a ball of tightly wound nerves and repressed anger. When away from her watchful eye, Kyle became just as shrill and unstoppable of a force as Mrs. Broflovski herself.

Kenny watched his friend frown, taking on a defensive pose. Talking about other people's problems was a-okay in Kyle's book, but discussing his own? Major taboo.

"She's gotten better." He said, his voice dull.

Kenny raised his eyebrows in mock-surprise, "You mean she hasn't started any wars lately?"

Kyle shot him a dirty look and clarified his earlier statement with, "I can kind of talk to her now. Kind of. She at least tries to listen to me."

Kenny nodded appreciatively. That _was_ sort of an improvement.

"What about your dad?" he asked. Not that Kyle's dad was much of a problem. He seemed like a nice, mellow sort of guy. But then, Kenny didn't really know anything about him.

Kyle shook his head, smiling bitterly, "I don't really talk to my dad, dude. Not about important stuff, I mean."

Kenny's eyebrows rose, requesting further explanation, but Kyle ignored them.

Fine then. If Kyle was going to be so stubborn, Kenny would just have to weasel this personal stuff out of him.

"Well…" Kenny began with a sigh (always a good start,) "You know you can always talk to me, dude." He paused to smile at his friend, milking his puppy dog eyes for all they were worth, "You know…if anything is bothering you or whatever."

Kyle was _way_ too easy to read.

The redhead's slightly pained expression told Kenny exactly what was on Kyle's mind: that he was being a crap friend again, that he should stop being such a crap friend, and that the best way to do that was to open up to Kenny and talk to him the way friends were supposed to. You know, if they wanted to act like total fucking girls.

"Thanks Kenny." Kyle said softly, smiling back at Kenny with one of the sweetest looks he had ever seen. Really, Kyle could do a fair bit of manipulation with that look if he tried. A little bit of voice wavering thrown in there would melt the heart of any respectable old lady.

"No problem, dude." Kenny shifted from sad smile to cocky grin effortlessly and rolled over onto his stomach, his shoulder knocking lightly into Kyle's as he did. The redhead didn't budge, and Kenny looked up at him curiously, wondering what was keeping him from shoving Kenny away (and possibly off the bed) like he usually would.

Kyle looked to be deep in thought, his expression dark. For some reason, Kyle seemed to be sinking further into the depths of teenaged angst despite Kenny's best efforts to fill the conversation with fluffy, loving, friendly feelings.

"Kyle?"

His friend gave him a sideways glance, then turned his attention to a random spot on his duvet.

"Nothing's really bothering me." He spoke slowly, like he was still putting his words together, even as he said them, "But I feel like I should tell you something."

Kenny laughed lightly and shrugged his shoulders.

"Sure thing."

He watched as Kyle chewed at the inside of his lip for a moment before moving his attention from his duvet to someplace slightly further away, possibly the floor.

"It's just that, since you're my friend, I feel like I should tell you."

Kenny waited expectantly, feeling the tension in the room build tremendously over the five-second pause Kyle took before speaking.

"I just thought you should know that I think I'm gay."

Kyle looked at him then, waiting for a reaction, and as his bombshell of an announcement registered in Kenny's brain there was only one thought in the blonde's mind.

_Fuck, Kevin was right._

Kenny wasn't sure how long he went without speaking- hell, without blinking, but when he heard Kyle begin to speak again with a nervous, "Um…" he interrupted.

"Seriously?"

"Yes." Kyle answered, tone serious enough to make Kenny realize that the 'I think' his friend had provided earlier had only been for his benefit. Kyle was already sure of himself. Any caution he took in declaring his sexuality was just a way to ease Kenny into the idea.

The two were staring at each other now, Kyle having apparently lost interest in staring at random points in his room once he got his news out in the open.

"That's cool with me." Kenny said with a nervous smile, unsure of whether or not Kyle was really looking for his approval.

Apparently he was. The redhead smiled with relief and Kenny noticed the way his fingers unclenched from the piece of blanket Kenny could only assume they'd been clutching.

"Cool." He said, his smile spreading to a grin.

_Fuck, Kevin was right. _

They kept smiling at each other until Kenny's desire to completely freak out overwhelmed him. Not wanting to totally spazz in front of Kyle, especially after he'd told Kenny something so important, the blonde forced himself to say something nice and normal in an effort to calm down. "Does anyone else know?"

Kyle smiled in a self-satisfied way that made Kenny wonder how badly Kyle had actually wanted to have this conversation with him. Now that the hard part was out of the way, he seemed kind of eager.

"I already told Stan." Of course, "And I'm pretty sure Ike knows somehow, even though I never told him. He's a sneaky little fucker, y'know?"  
Kenny nodded in understanding, feeling somewhat honored that he was the second person Kyle was coming out to. But still, he had to wonder….

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, was Kevin right_?

"And do you, um, like anyone?" Kenny asked carefully, not wanting to sound like the sort of insensitive asshole who automatically assumed that their gay friend liked them. Even if that was exactly the kind of insensitive asshole he was.

Kyle quirked an eyebrow at him, obviously realizing what Kenny was getting at. He pretended not to.

"No, not really." He said, shrugging his shoulders, "I used to have a crush on Craig, but…nah."

Kenny couldn't help but smile at that.

Craig? The kid with braces who flipped everyone off and didn't care about anything except his guinea pig?

"So you like dark haired mystery men, eh?" he said teasingly, grinning as Kyle's cheeks went pink.

_Maybe Kevin wasn't right?_

"Shut up, Kenny!"

Kenny laughed off his friend's irritation, and rolled over to lie on his back again, feeling somewhat relieved.

Kyle was gay, but didn't seem to like anyone. That was probably for the best. Because if Kyle had a crush on Stan or something, things could get awkward. Or worse, if Kyle had a crush on _him_… Actually….

Why _didn't_ Kyle have a crush on him?

If Kenny hadn't just asked Kyle about it he really would have thought that his brother was onto something with his retarded notion of Kyle wanting to get into Kenny's pants. After all, buying Kenny stuff and being super nice to him for no reason was a damn good way to get sex out of him. If it had been one of the girls in school doing all this nice stuff for him, Kenny would have happily screwed them by now.

But this was Kyle, not some girl from school. Kyle was his friend.

His gay friend.

Who didn't like him.

_Goddammit, why was Kevin wrong?_

"How come you don't like me?" Kenny asked with a nearly accusatory tone, sitting up to stare at his friend questioningly.

It was a bold and stupid question, and while Kenny was somewhat embarrassed to have asked it, he kept himself looking confident as he stared Kyle down, not wanting to look like a total dork.

The redhead stared back at him, eyes wide, and slowly sat up so that they were on the same level.

"I, um, I don't know…" Kyle stumbled over his words as his cheeks took on a pink tinge, "I never really…considered it…I guess?"

Kenny nodded in understanding, shoulders slouching a little as he relaxed "Ah. Well, consider it."

Kyle gave him a brief, panicked look and asked, "Consider what? Liking you?"

Kenny nodded again.

They stared at each other for somewhere around a full minute before Kyle finally asked, "Why?"

Kenny scoffed and shook his head, quickly turning his honest question into a dramatic joke, "Because I'm sexy."

Kyle looked about ready to rip his lamp out of the wall and beat someone to death with it, so Kenny made short work of being serious again.

"No, actually. It's because we already go on dates-" Kyle tried to inform him once again that their nights out were not actually dates, but Kenny just cut him off and resumed his explanation, "And we're already good friends, and the way you've been treating me lately… it makes me really happy. Like, stupid happy. I've always thought you were a really nice guy with a really nice ass, and you've proved me right." He paused to reconsider what he said, then nodded, "About the nice guy thing, anyway. I always knew you had a nice ass."

Kyle gaped at him, making small noises that meant that he was probably trying to speak but couldn't quite manage it.

"And because I'm sexy." Kenny added, grinning, and ducked just in time to avoid the pillow Kyle was trying to hit him with.

"What the fuck, dude?" he demanded, looking more confused than angry as he brandished his pillow threateningly, "Are you seriously asking me out?"

The scared little puppy look Kenny gave him combined with his curled up 'please don't kill me with a fluffy down pillow' position made Kyle stop his aggressive advance and drop the pillow to the floor.

"I think it's a good idea." Kenny said in a small voice, giving his friend a weak smile.

As if Kyle's cheeks weren't pink enough already, Kyle blushed again and sat back with a heavy sigh. "I thought you were straight," he said tiredly.

Kenny shrugged his shoulders. He was whatever anyone wanted him to be. "So what do you think?" he asked with a deceptively shy smile, scooting a little closer to Kyle.

Kyle didn't move away, but made no effort to return Kenny's smile.

"Um…" he started, looking from Kenny's face to the ceiling and back again, "I…guess so."

Kenny bit his lower lip as he grinned, that same tingling feeling back in his stomach. Just like when he'd read Kyle's post-it note earlier that week, he couldn't quite contain himself. "Sweet!" he cried excitedly, and leaned over to pull his friend into a tight hug. Kyle made a small, surprised noise and went rigid in Kenny's arms, but the blonde didn't care.

Once again, he'd gotten his way.

*

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Phew. Now that that's out of the way....

More to come soonish.


	5. A Birth Certificate, Seriously?

South Park doesn't belong to me.

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"So you've liked Kenny for how long, exactly?"

Even in the dead of winter, Stan's sarcasm was the coldest and most biting thing around.

Kyle sent a glare in Stan's direction, suppressing the urge to reach over and knock the hat off of his head. Stan was his best friend, his super-best friend in fact, and Kyle loved him like a brother. But sometimes Stan's nearly constant sarcasm grated on even Kyle's nerves.

"Stop being a prick." He snapped, and quickly turned his glare down the street, watching for their bus. Taking the bus to school sucked, but since Kyle's father hadn't let him borrow the car today and Stan wasn't allowed to drive at all until he made peace with his inner-driving instructor (or whatever crazy, bullshit excuse his dad had come up with to keep him off the road,) the two were stuck going to school the old-fashioned way. At least it was better than the _really_ old fashioned way of walking, which would have left them both soaked up to their knees from snow.

Still, this 'waiting for the bus' nonsense had to stop. Kyle wasn't an especially patient person as it was, and standing around listening to Stan passive-aggressively attack his recent relationship decisions for the past twenty minutes had him about ready to strangle someone.

"I'm serious. You told me before, you _didn't like_ anyone. And definitely not any of _us_." Stan leaned forward to force himself into Kyle's line of vision, frowning, "Why is it different all of a sudden?"

Kyle hated that he could feel his face heat up, hated the way Stan's expression shifted from an accusatory frown to something soft and sorry. It was the same damn look that Stan gave to all the lonely little caged puppies at the pound and Kyle did _not_ like that it was now being aimed at him.

"Sorry dude." Stan said quietly, "I am kind of being a dick, aren't I?"

Kyle rolled his eyes. Of course Stan was being a dick. Hadn't Kyle reminded him of that already? "S'okay." Kyle said with a shrug, not wanting to further any animosity between them. A slightly uncomfortable silence fell over them as they both stared down the street, watching for their bus in the distance.

"I just always thought Kenny liked girls." Stan said quickly, his eyes still set on the horizon.

Kyle smirked bitterly as he remembered all the times he and Stan had to grab Kenny by the strings of his hood and physically drag him away from a nice set of breasts in order to avoid the possibility of a lawsuit, or death.

Yeah, Kenny definitely liked girls.

"I guess that's why I never considered him." Kyle said flippantly, as if that very fact hadn't kept him up into the early hours of the morning after Kenny had left his house just a few days ago.

After suddenly finding himself in a relationship with one of his best friends who he'd always thought was straight, or at the very least bisexual and not at all interested in him, Kyle had been left with a lot on his mind. Lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, he'd convinced himself that he just had really, really bad gaydar, and that Kenny must have been wanting to do him all along and Kyle just hadn't noticed. Because if he had noticed, he would have considered it, right?

Kyle certainly had been telling the truth when he explained to Stan, way back when, that he didn't like any of the guys in their little group. But now that Kenny had opened up a whole new realm of possibilities, Kyle had to wonder if the only reason he'd never developed a crush on the blonde was because he'd been sure Kenny wouldn't feel the same. Kyle probably could have had a crush on him if he'd only allowed himself to. The same could be said for Stan, although Kyle definitely didn't want to think about that possibility, because he and Stan were around each other too much to consider any what-ifs. And besides, Stan was most _definitely_ straight. Cartman was obviously out of the running on the grounds that Kyle hated his guts.

_Kenny_, on the other hand….

"But now you're considering it?" Stan asked, looking at Kyle with one eyebrow raised in confusion.

Kyle answered him with a smug smile, "I already considered it."

Stan rolled his eyes and then looked back into the distance, going up on his toes as if that would give him a better view. "Look who it is…" he murmured, just loud enough for Kyle to hear.

Kyle stared down the street and smiled when he saw a hooded figure running toward them, their school bus not far behind. He waved, then laughed as Kenny waved back, looking like he was about to fall over from running so fast.

The blonde skidded to a stop a foot or so from Stan and Kyle and bent over to put his hands on his knees as he panted out a slightly muffled, "Hey guys."

Not two seconds later, their bus was screeching to a halt in front of them.

"Nice timing, dude." Stan said with a sly grin, already stepping onto the bus.

Kyle watched Kenny stumble up the stairs after him, wheezing as he went.

"Least I didn't…get hit…by it…." He panted, then looked back at Kyle to smile sheepishly.

The redhead rolled his eyes but couldn't keep from smiling as well as he stepped onto the bus and followed his friends while they searched for open seats.

The thought occurred to him that if he and Kenny sat next to each other today, it'd be their first time riding the bus together as a couple, rather than just friends. Despite having never wanted to do such a thing before, and despite the fact that thinking things like that was incredibly stupid, the idea of it left a little bit of a warm, fuzzy feeling in Kyle's chest.

*

Over the years, Kyle's chances of sharing a class with either of his best friends had grown slimmer and slimmer. Neither Stan nor Kenny could make it into the advanced placement classes Kyle constantly got suckered into. Stan simply wasn't cut out for the work load of an advanced class, especially when he was busying himself with a wide array of after school sports, and Kenny didn't exactly have the drive or the attendance record necessary to succeed in anything more than the most basic schoolwork. Since the start of high school, Kyle had bemoaned his loss of class time companionship.

This year, however, Kyle was experiencing the secret joys of required courses. Being stuck in classes like Health and Economics was made infinitely less horrible when you realize that when everyone has to take a particular class, chances are you'll end up with more options for classmates. Kyle, for example, was just lucky enough to find himself sharing an Economics class with Kenny McCormick this semester.

He was also sharing the class with Fatass Neo-Nazi Lunatic Fucktard Cartman, but that was easily ignored. Especially now that Kyle and Kenny were sharing something slightly different from their regularly scheduled friendship programming. High school economics sucked ass, something Kyle had guessed before he even began the class, but it was relatively easy, too. The simple concepts, light workload and altogether inattentive old lady of a teacher made it the perfect class for Kyle to completely blow off and focus on other things. Things like passing notes to Kenny, for example.

Kyle wrote out a simple, '_Hey_.' on a piece of notebook paper and slipped the paper from his desk onto the desk to his left, then smiled as he watched Kenny's face light up at the prospect of a good distraction. Kyle watched him whip a pencil out of nowhere and scribble down a response, then took the paper back.

'_Breaking the rules again, I see? Tsk, tsk, Broflovski._'

Kyle couldn't help but grin. Kenny had a certain way of saying things on paper that he never said out loud that made Kyle wish he always had a notebook handy.

'_The teacher said to take notes, dude._'

He passed the paper back to Kenny and the conversation quickly picked up.

'_Take_ _notes, not pass them._'

'_Same difference._'

'_Sure, sure. Anyway, what's up? You so desperate to talk to me you're writing notes?'_

Kyle frowned at Kenny's most recent line and turned to give the blonde a dirty look.

'_No,_' he wrote back, '_I'm just bored_.'

'_Oh. Are you sure you aren't longing for the sound of my voice?_'

'_Nope._'

'_What about longing for my touch?_'

Kyle felt his cheeks go hot and he whipped around to give Kenny his best death glare, only to find the blonde smiling like he owned the word smug.

'_I'm not longing for anything, douchebag._'

'_You're so sweet, Kyle, really. But that reminds me- what are we doing about this dating thing?_'

'_What do you mean?_'

'_Like, are we openly dating or what?'_

As Kyle stopped to consider this question he could distinctly hear Cartman muttering a few seat behind him, saying something about how it was _so_ like a Jew to be passing notes all secretive-like. Kyle made a mental note to, once again, ask god to let Cartman fall down a well.

He wouldn't even have to die or anything. He could just, you know, sit there for a while, wedged between the walls or something.

'_I don't think we can really be open about it. People would probably flip if they knew, and I can't risk letting my mom find out._'

Kyle watched as Kenny frowned, probably mourning the loss of a chance to make-out in the hallway like everyone else, and filled in another line of loose-leaf.

'_Do you think your mom will be mad?_'

Kyle stared down at the note for a minute as he formulated a proper response.

Would his mom be mad to know that he was gay? No, she'd just want to hear it from him and not someone else.

Would she be mad to know that he was gay with Kenny? _Probably_ not? As long as he was happy, right?

'_Nah. I'm just not really ready for her to know yet._'

'_Oh, okay. That's cool. I can still make sweet, sweet love to you in private though, right?_'

A part of Kyle's mind wanted to point out that they hadn't even kissed yet. Another part wondered if Kenny had seriously considered making sweet love to him in _public_, let alone at all. Yet another part couldn't get Chef's good old "I'm gonna lay you down by the fire" song out of his head.

'_Not at my house, dude. My mom would probably find a way to interrupt or come up to check on us for some retarded reason._'

'_So…my place, then?_'

Kyle rolled his eyes.

Kenny had better be joking, because there was no way he was getting Kyle into bed with him this early in the game.

'_Dude._'

'_I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Seriously though, you wanna do something today? I was kind of hoping we could hang out after school._'

The next few seconds happened far too quickly.

Kyle clicked his pen into life, a response to Kenny's invitation fresh in his mind when suddenly a crashing sound at the left side of the room caught everyone's attention. A boulder came sailing through their classroom window, landed in the space slightly to the left of Kyle, and then Kenny was dead.

Killed by a rock flying through a window. Or rather, killed by a bigass mother-fucking boulder hurled through a window in just such a way as to avoid doing harm to any other person in the room but Kenny, who the boulder made it his business to land upon.

Kyle's eyes went wide at the sight of the blood seeping out from underneath the giant rock and he jumped out of his seat, racing to the broken window to look outside.

"You ba-"

The exclamation died in his throat as he realized that there was no one outside.

It made sense, really. A boulder that size, traveling at that speed? It had to have been catapulted from at least a few hundred feet away.

Still, Kyle didn't feel right without saying his piece, so while the rest of his classmates tried to comfort their shocked teacher, who had never witnessed a Kenny McCormick death scene before, he muttered the words angrily under his breath.

In the time that was left in the class period, everyone in the room was evacuated to make way for a cleaning crew while the economics teacher was sent to the guidance office for a cup of coffee and a quick talk about the miracle of Kenny. As he exited the room with his classmates, all of them excited to be missing the rest of their dull class thanks to Kenny, the only thing Kyle could think about was that he'd really, really wanted to accept Kenny's invitation.

*

"E-Eric…I dunno if we should be in here."

At a time when all good little boys should have been at home, Cartman and Butters were left standing in an empty economics classroom at their school. Butters stood with his back pressed up against the frame of the door, glancing out into the hall every few moments to keep up with his lookout duty, while the guy who'd dragged him to the room searched the floor with a magnifying glass in hand.

"Butters, for god's sake, would you stop complaining?"

The heavyset boy was on his knees, peering at the dust particles on the floor through his magnifying glass and frowning when he realized that they weren't what he was looking for.

"It's just that, well, uh- well I should already be home." Butters explained, as if his chatter would sway Cartman's opinion, "And I really don't wanna get in trouble again, you know? The last time you made me stay at school with you we found that dead puppy in the locker room and, well, that was just terrible."

Cartman rolled his eyes and sat up to give the blonde a nasty look.

"It wouldn't have been so bad if you hadn't _tripped_ over it, dipshit." He said with a scoff of disgust, "And anyway, this time we're here for something so much better." He paused and looked at Butters with a smile quickly spreading over his face, "You _do_ want super powers, don't you Butters?"

The blonde looked at him nervously at first, but as he considered the question at hand a dark, serious look came over his face, "Yes…yes I do…."

Cartman nodded understandingly.

"Good then. Shut the hell up and keep watch while I look for bits of alien meteoroid, then."

As if someone had flipped a switch, Butters was all innocence again.

"But, but…I don't know that you're gonna find any, Eric. I mean, they said it was just a normal ol' rock that hit Kenny."

Cartman laughed mockingly, already back on his hands and knees to peer at the tiles again, "That's just what they want you to think!"

"O-Oh…."

Butters let the argument go, even though he was fairly certain he was right, and kept watching as his friend searched the floor of the classroom with false hope.

He was just about to suggest that they stop looking and head back home when a startled noise caught his attention.

"Wh-what is it, Eric?"

The pudgy boy was sitting up now, magnifying glass cast aside in favor of a small piece of paper. It was badly torn and completely filthy, probably from being smashed with a boulder, but apparently Cartman could still read it because he was holding it close to his face and looking at it with interest.

Butters watched in curiosity as Cartman's expression shifted from confused to satisfied to horrified. Butters' concern skyrocketed.

"Eric, what is it? Is something wrong?"

Cartman shook his head slowly, disbelieving, and let out a choked noise.

"Ugh, Butters…Butters, this is horrible…."

Butters quickly abandoned his post by the door to kneel at his friend's side, looking over his shoulder to see what sort of unspeakable horrors Cartman had unveiled. He looked down at the paper in Cartman's hands, reading the first sentence on it, then frowned in confusion.

A simple piece of loose-leaf paper? "Aw, well…it's just a note. What's wrong with it?"

Suddenly, there were hands on his shoulders and Cartman was shaking him physically forward and back, looking into his eyes with the stare of a man gone mad.

"Butters! Jesus Christ, Butters, don't you know what this means!?"

The blonde stared up in honest terror and shook his head, no.

"It's Kenny's note with _Kyle_!" Cartman shouted.

Butters stared up at him like a deer in the headlights, his head starting to ache from being shaken around so much, "A-and…? What does that mean?"

Cartman stopped shaking him just as quickly as he had started but still held Butters in a viselike grip, his eyes staring deep down into Butters' soul.

"It's more horrible than anything I could have imagined, Butters." Cartman sighed heavily as he released Butter's shoulders and looked away for dramatic effect, then turned back to continue looking serious, "Gay. Ginger. Assbabies."

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Thanks for all the reviews so far, by the way- totally slipped my mind to say anything about that until now. I really, really appreciate the feedback.


	6. Yeah, Does the Lobster Mean Anything?

South Park doesn't belong to me.

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There was a perfectly good explanation for why Sheila Broflovski had just found one of her son's friends trapped in their peony bushes, and Kenny would have been more than happy to give it to her if only he were allowed to be honest and tell Kyle's mother that he'd been making an early morning effort to romance his new boyfriend.

Having just died and come back the night before, Kenny was feeling exceptionally awake and aware at five in the morning, quite a change from the usual, and was determined to pick up his earlier conversation with Kyle right where they'd left off. Filled with a determination to get his way and an all-consuming desire to be ridiculously cute and romantic and make Kyle think he was worth it, Kenny had set out

by the early morning light to go to Kyle's house.

His plan had simply been to climb up to Kyle's bedroom, knock on the window to get his attention and when he came to open it Kenny would lean in and ask him, for the second time, if he wanted to get together and do something after school. Like a date.

And Kyle would be adorably rumpled from sleep, probably confused but definitely surprised and happy, and Kenny would be smooth and cool and smile just the right way.

Unfortunately Kyle's bedroom window was much harder to reach than Kenny had ever imagined it would be. The siding of the house was too smooth for him to get a good grip on and the branches of the surrounding trees were just slightly too high, then too far apart from one another, to make climbing them an easy task. Kenny did battle with a stubborn oak tree for nearly twenty minutes before he was finally able to work out the best way to reach Kyle's window. He struggled his way up the base of the tree and through the mess of branches, fighting off the dying leaves blocking his view and grinned as he came within five feet of his goal. He was so, so very close.

Then, quite suddenly, he was roughly twenty feet away from his goal, caught in a peony bush, cursing a blue streak and wondering how the hell Eric had always made this look so easy.

The back door opened a moment later, light from inside the house flooding the back yard, and Kyle's mother stepped outside to look at Kenny with an expression of confusion and distaste.

Knowing that he had to explain himself lest he be suspected of criminal activity and being unfortunately barred from telling the truth, Kenny sat up and rubbed a hand against his aching spine, laughing awkwardly.

"Eh…um…sorry about that, ma'am." He apologized with a bright smile, praying that his talent of being cute would hold sway over Mrs. Broflovski.

"Kenny?" the woman said questioningly, despite her being able to clearly see who had fallen into her garden, "What in the world are you doing?"

Kenny swallowed back a sigh of relief. She didn't sound angry, just confused and a little bit worried.

"I, um…" his mind raced through a list of what might pass as acceptable excuses in this situation and came to the conclusion that nothing was going to completely clear his name. He eventually settled for murmuring, "It was just a little prank…kind of messed it up…." And lowered his head to partially hide himself inside his coat.

Mrs. Broflovski stared at him from afar for a moment, probably trying to figure out exactly what kind of prank involved sneaking around her home and squishing her peonies, but finally placed her hands on her hips and stated, "Well that seems terribly unsafe, not to mention highly immature. I thought you kids were finally done with that nonsense."

Kenny lowered his head a little more, trying his best to look appropriately ashamed.

"You could get yourself into trouble sneaking around like that." She continued warningly, the tone of her voice giving away what she wasn't willing to say out loud. That _she_ wouldn't let him get away with trouble, that she didn't want him getting _her son_ into trouble. Kyle was a good boy.

"I know…." Kenny murmured into the fabric of his coat. Looking up a few seconds later he saw that his deliberate muffling had achieved the desired affect. No one could stay angry with Kenny when he started sounding like a little kid again, not even Kyle's crazy mother. Mrs. Broflovski's expression had softened into a concerned frown.

"Just try not to do anything dangerous." She said gently, "I would think you of all people would try to stay away from such risky things."

Kenny fought to hide the anger that comment sparked. He tried to console himself with the knowledge that Sheila was just the kind of person who always said exactly the wrong thing. She didn't mean anything by it.

Unaware of her mistake, Mrs. Broflovski swung her hips around haughtily and made her way back into her house, shutting the sliding door behind her.

And that left Kenny still sitting in a peony bush, relieved but annoyed, both with the situation at hand and with Kyle's mother.

As he hauled himself out of said bush and tried to shake off the dry, crinkled leaves clinging to his clothes he heard a sound several feet about him.

"Were you trying to sneak into my room?"

Kyle's voice. Damn, that kid was too light of a sleeper. And way too smart for his own good.

Kenny stood up straight and looked upward, smiling sheepishly.

"I just wanted to pick you some flowers, dude."

Kyle stared down at him, still in his pajamas, and even from far away Kenny could tell that he was trying not to laugh.

"Too bad it's fuckin'…endless winter." He continued, laughing a little in self-pity.

Kyle allowed himself to laugh this time, shaking his head, then called down, "I'll be out in a few minutes, y'know, if you want a ride to school."

Kenny grinned and nodded because he very much wanted a ride to school, but as he watched Kyle begin to close his window again it occurred to him exactly why he'd trekked over here and nearly killed himself in a tree climbing disaster.

"Oh! Wait, wait, wait!"

Kyle stopped with the window half-closed and crouched down to peer down at Kenny through the open portion.

"I asked you if you wanted to hang out after school, remember?" Kenny stuffed his hands into his pockets, feeling more nervous than he was used to being about this kind of thing. He'd already gotten Kyle to agree to going out with him, so why was a date such a big deal? He'd already asked once anyway. Though that had been on paper, which seemed easier somehow.

It was entirely possible that he was imagining it, that maybe he'd hit his head when he fell and that his brain was playing tricks on him, but he could swear that Kyle was blushing. At the very least he looked embarrassed.

Kyle glanced back over his shoulder, probably in fear of his mother bursting in out of nowhere and discovering everything in all the wrong ways, then looked back at Kenny and nodded.

"Sure."

Sure?

"Definitely." Kyle added quickly, then shut his window and went back to getting ready for school.

Which left Kenny outside, standing next to a badly disfigured peony bush, grinning up at a closed window and letting his mind slip back and forth between planning a date and imagining Kyle undressing.

*

"So I know this is kind of a shitty idea for a date…." Kenny allowed himself to trail off, not having any actual excuse for exactly why he'd invited Kyle on such a shitty date. None that he wanted to voice, anyway.

The fact of the matter was that while Kenny's intentions were good, he was lacking pretty much everything that would enable him to throw together a really impressive date. He had no money, no car, and not much of an imagination when it came to stuff like this. He'd spent all day at school thinking, trying to come up with something really cool and romantic that would sweep Kyle off his feet and possibly convince him that it would be a good idea to skip the rest of the usual courting rituals and go straight to the sex, but all he'd been able to think up were a bunch of lame "cheap as free" date ideas.

Which is why they were walking along the train tracks beside his house for an evening of fun and excitement.

Admittedly, having Kyle hold his hand as they walked made the whole situation about five million times better, but it still felt kind of lame to Kenny. He'd wanted to impress Kyle, to give him a reason to want to give him a good night kiss, at least. This, though? Taking a walk along the train tracks like a pair of losers? That wasn't worth much.

Kyle seemed to be pretty happy, though. Obviously he was handling his disappointment well. He held Kenny's hand tightly in his as they walked, chattering away about something; Stan being on a mission to save stray animals? Whatever. Kenny was only half paying attention, too absorbed in trying to think of something to turn the date into a decent experience.

"So…there's a point to this, right?" Kyle's voice broke Kenny's concentration as he finished up with whatever he'd been talking about and started a new topic, "Not that I mind walking, but you said you were taking me somewhere."

Kenny smiled, embarrassed, "Yeah…I am. You're gonna think it's stupid, though." He looked up at the sky. It was dark enough, at least, and mostly cloudless. So at least his lame idea would be a successfully lame one.

Kyle rolled his eyes but said nothing, following along as Kenny streered him across the tracks to walk on the other side.

"It's right over here." Kenny explained, doing his best to sound nonchalant. He didn't want Kyle thinking he was too excited about something stupid like this. Even if he was kind of into it. Maybe. Just a little.

They walked past a cluster of pine trees until a ramshackle old structure came into view. He directed Kyle towards it, blushing slightly at the other boy's questioning tone, "An…old train station?"

"Yeah." He answered without elaboration. The South Park train station had been rebuilt closer to town years ago in an effort to create something at least slightly practical in the otherwise incomprehensible town. The old South Park station, a badly built and unattractive building that had started to rot even while it had been in use, was left behind and quickly forgotten. No one bothered with it anymore. No one except Kenny.

To his credit, Kyle refrained from pestering Kenny with any silly questions while he was dragged out to a broken down old train station, like, "Why the hell are we here?" or "Is this your idea of a date, you asshole?" Kyle kept quiet, a thoughtful expression on his face, even as he watched Kenny climb up onto the roof of the decaying building. He didn't even complain that there was no way he was climbing up some crappy old building when Kenny extended his hand as an invitation. Sure, he looked mildly concerned at the prospect of standing on the roof of something that looked like it was going to collapse, but after sizing up the station (it wasn't _that_ high off the ground) and working out that if Kenny, of all people, could do something without getting hurt, he could manage, Kyle grabbed Kenny's hand again and allowed himself to be helped up onto the station roof.

The two of them had been seated on the edge of the roof for a few long, quiet moments before Kenny finally said, "I like old buildings and crap."

Kyle nodded in understanding, even though Kenny could tell from his expression that he didn't really see the appeal.

"I like this one since you get a good view of the sky." He continued, trying to explain himself without sounding like a dweeb.

Despite being relatively low to the ground, the old station provided a good place to stare up at the stars. It was located just far enough away from any tall trees that if you were to lay back on the roof and stare upward, your view of the sky was unrestricted. Even the mountains in the distance were out of view from here. The sky looked almost frighteningly open, just a vast expanse of near-black and pinprick stars with a softly glowing moon in the middle of it all.

Kyle smiled at him, actually understanding this time. He'd kept his hold on Kenny's hand on the way onto the roof and was still holding it now, squeezing it tightly against the cold of the night air, "It's nice."

Kenny nodded in agreement, secretly thrilled that Kyle looked so honestly happy. That meant he wasn't bored. He wasn't hating this date. He wasn't hating Kenny.

"Yeah," he agreed, nearly grinning, "You can see the constellations clearly and everything."

Kyle gave him a quizzical look, "You mean you actually know the constellations?"

Kenny nodded, his smile turning somewhat smug, "Sure, I was in scouts."

Kyle snickered at this, but said nothing about it, instead asking, "So which ones are which?"

Kenny was more than happy to lean closer to Kyle and point out different stars and try to convince him of their shapes, telling him of the big and little dipper and Orion the Hunter, and then began throwing in astrological names.

"Wait, wait, wait…" Kyle said, shaking his head, "I thought they all had mythological names. Or, y'know, Americanized crap. Stuff like that."

Kenny shrugged his shoulders, the hand that had been pointing to Aries faltering, "Well…yeah. But there are also astrological ones. That's where they get all the astrology stuff from anyway. The stars. Duh."

Kyle shot him an irritated glance and Kenny had no choice but to smile apologetically, "Like I was saying, that one's Aries, so it's mine." Or, the one he belonged to? Either or.

"So where's mine?" Kyle asked, moving a little closer to Kenny in a way that Kenny figured was unconscious, but was still nice anyway.

"Gemini, right?" he asked, and without waiting for confirmation, scanned the sky and pointed in the proper direction, "Right there."

Kyle followed the direction he was pointing in, pouting up at the sky as he tried to connect the dots.

"It's supposed to be twins…" Kenny explained, "Not that it really looks like it. None of them _really_ look like anything."

Kyle scoffed and looked away from what was supposedly his sign, gazing up at the other collections of stars.

Kenny, beginning to worry that he'd chosen the wrong sort of dating activity after all, said, "Gemini's are supposed to be intellectual, witty and lively." He smiled slightly, "And tense."

Kyle looked back to him, eyebrows raised, "Oh yeah?"

Kenny nodded knowingly, "I think it fits."

Kyle rolled his eyes, obviously not buying into it, "And what about you, Aries?"

"Hm…Energetic and enthusiastic and daredevil, something like that." And selfish, he left out. Aries were supposed to be very selfish.

Kyle scoffed again, but he was smiling now, "That sounds like a load of bull."

Kenny pouted at him in mock-offense, covering his heart with his free hand, "What? You don't think I'm energetic and enthusiastic?"

Kyle pouted right back at him, "You think I'm tense?"

Yes, Kenny wanted to say. But he'd already noticed that Kyle had moved away from him slightly and he didn't like it. He certainly didn't want to increase the distance between them again.

"Gemini and Aries are supposed to be pretty compatible." He tried.

Kyle frowned in disbelief, "They taught you that in scouts?"

Kenny frowned as well, second-guessing himself now. Shit, where had he learned that stuff? Maybe having his brain fried several times over had messed with the information in his head? Or all the drugs he'd tried? Or maybe it had been some mystical, spiritual crap that had somehow put the knowledge there. That, or he'd just been reading too many of his sister's magazines.

"I guess." He shrugged his shoulders, "Whatever. I don't know where I learned it. I just know it."

Kyle stared at him seriously for a moment, brow furrowed. Then, like clouds miraculously parting to let the sun shine through, he smiled, almost giddily.

"You're so _cool_." He said, half-laughing. He said it in the same tone someone might use to say, "You're so _weird_," and Kenny wasn't quite sure if he should take it as a compliment or not.

But considering the way Kyle suddenly moved closer to him, cuddling into his side in the least-girly way he possibly could, Kenny figured he should be happy with it.

"Does that mean I'm worthy of a kiss?" he asked slyly, half expecting Kyle to push him off the roof for being an over-eager sex addict or something like that. But instead Kyle just looked at him, considering.

He nodded slowly, saying, "I guess you could say that."

And then they were kissing.

It was just a quick brush of lips, nothing to write home about, but when it was over the pair of them were flushed and smiling like fools.

Like fools on a roof staring at each other instead of stars.

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A whole chapter free of angst, guilt, Kenny-death or Cartman…what's this world coming to, honestly? Not to worry though. Next time around I'll be sure to throw a wrench in the works. Won't that be fun?

Thanks again to all of you who favorite and review and all that. I really, really appreciate it. Honestly, my lazy-ass was about to abandon this story in a fit of bitterness, but all you guys who reviewed renewed my love of fanfic. Thanks guys. You may well have _saved_ this fanfic's life. Heroes, you are. Every last one of you.


	7. I Shall Call You Skittles

South Park doesn't belong to me.

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Stan sighed as he maneuvered his way in between refrigerated shelves to grab hold of the last container of 2% milk. Running errands for his mom sucked, but having his best friend come along with him made things better. Mostly.

"I can't even begin to explain it to you," Kyle said as he shifted the bottles of dressing and tomato sauce held in his arms, keeping up the chatter that had been going on for the past five minutes, "I'm just _so_ happy, dude. Like, really fucking happy."

Stan rolled his eyes and smiled, saying for about the fiftieth time that week, "That's great, dude."

And it was. Hearing that Kyle was happy made Stan happy. But hearing about it again and again over the course of several weeks was beginning to grate on his nerves.

"Seriously, it's like floating on air and all that crap." Kyle was practically giggling as he followed Stan down the bread aisle, "It's amazing. I'm like, in love or something."

Stan, safely out of Kyle's view, wore a thoroughly bored expression. He wouldn't admit it, but he was a little jealous. Hearing all about Kyle and Kenny's first date, their kiss under the stars, the cuddling and handholding and note passing and all of that simply made him long for a sickeningly sweet relationship of his own. Stan always found it easy to get a girlfriend, but not so easy to find one that he really, truly cared about.

But such was high school, he tried to remind himself. The relationships people created in their teenaged years weren't usually meant to last. Looking at Kyle, though, Stan got the feeling that he hadn't gotten the memo. His friend was deep in puppy love and it worried him a little.

"And Kenny's been cool?" Stan asked, interrupting Kyle in the middle of saying something about sticky notes.

Kyle quirked an eyebrow at him, confused and just on the verge of annoyance.

"Just being the overprotective best friend." Stan sighed, putting his hands up in mock-defense. This was a little difficult to do with a gallon of milk in one hand and a loaf of bread in the other, but he figured he'd gotten the point across.

Kyle rolled his eyes, the tension in his stance easing as he leaned back against a shelf of fruit snacks, "Yeah, Kenny's been cool. He's been great." Kyle stared down at the jar of tomato sauce he'd been holding, stroking the glass with his thumb in a way that suggested he wasn't really looking at the jar at all, then looked up at Stan meaningfully, "He really _does_ know how to treat a person, you know. He's a good guy."

Stan smiled awkwardly and nodded, then turned toward the registers at the front of the store. The trouble with talking Kyle out of a bad idea wasn't only the lack of evidence that would prove just how bad of an idea it was, but the fact that Kyle wouldn't listen to him even if he had a folder full of notarized documents, a police report and the voice of god all telling him that it was a bad idea.

Still, Stan really didn't have any evidence. Aside from his gut instinct which told him that this would all be going wrong awfully soon, he had no good reason to tell his best friend that the relationship he was completely devoting himself to probably wasn't going to work out. It'd be unfair to say that Kenny would make a bad boyfriend just because he was kind of a fucked up kid. They were all kind of fucked up, after all.

And who was he to ruin Kyle's happiness anyway? He'd just put up with all the romantic reveries and schoolgirl excitement now, and then when the shit hit the fan, he'd offer a shoulder to cry on and, if absolutely necessary, a fist to knock Kenny's teeth in.

They laid out their things on the conveyer belt at the 12 items or less register and Stan settled easily into another round of nods and smiles to compliment his best friend's lovesick ramblings.

*

A typical afternoon was usually spent at the home of whoever had the newest or most interesting game or system. Since Cartman's mother had just bought him a brand-new generic fighting game as a "three whole months without being arrested for attempted murder" present, today Stan, Kyle and Kenny gathered at his house.

They played in turns, joking, talking and partaking of whatever chocolate and cheese-coated snacks Cartman's mother happened to be whipping up at the moment. Life was pretty sweet. Kyle was enjoying himself, anyway. Wedged between Stan and Kenny on the couch, with Cartman sitting a few feet away in a reclining chair he had claimed as his and only his, everything felt right in the world.

Of course Cartman had to ruin it.

"So Jewboy…"

Kyle sighed, already anticipating hearing something he wasn't going to like.

"Does your good friend Stan know that you've been keeping secrets from him?"

Kyle and Stan glanced up at Cartman in unison, both looking confused and vaguely concerned.

"What are you talking about, fatass?" Kyle asked tiredly, as if even holding a conversation with Cartman was a chore.

"Oh, nothing…." Cartman said smugly, taking a handful of flavored popcorn from the bowl beside him and shoving it in his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, and added, "Have you guys noticed how _gay_ people are being lately?"

Kyle nearly laughed out loud at Cartman's all too obvious hint.

_That's_ what this was about? The fatass had finally figured it out? It was about time.

"No, I don't think I have." He said, smirking slightly as he glanced toward Stan who was still looking confused. Kyle rose his eyebrows at him, trying to tip him off to what was going on. A look of recognition passed over his face quickly before he sat back and said, "What the hell are you talking about, Cartman?"

The large boy shook his head slowly, looking falsely sad, "Ah, poor Stan. You don't even know what's going on behind your back. Some friend you have."

Stan shrugged his shoulders at the jab and turned his attention back to trying to kick Kenny's ass in a flurry of pixilated martial arts moves.

"Keeping secrets _is_ just the sort of thing a sneaky Jew like Kyle would do, though." Cartman continued, "You really should have known better."

Kyle rolled his eyes and took an offered controller from Kenny's hands as the previous match timed out and Stan was proclaimed the victor.

"What are you trying to achieve here, fatass?" he asked, selecting a new character and starting the game again, "You want to blackmail me or something?"

Cartman made a little 'tsk'ing noise, "Honestly, Kyle, always assuming the worst of people." He paused a moment before saying, "But yeah, I'm thinking this juicy bit of information should earn me at _least_ some begging and pleading, am I right?"

"Well gee, I don't know." Kyle said, voice thick with enough sarcasm to choke a Shetland pony, "What exactly is it that you know?"

A sideways glance assured him that Cartman was scowling, apparently displeased at the way this was working out. Kyle smirked, even as Stan's character blasted his in the face with some kind of projectile weapon.

"I think you know, Kyle." He said, a threatening edge to his voice, "And I'm sure you don't want Stan here to know about it, too."

Kyle shook his head slowly, truly amazed at how stupid Cartman was being about all this. Did he really think he was being sneaky? Kyle wasn't sure how he'd figured everything out, but if he'd wanted to be convincing about all this blackmail stuff he should have pretended that he didn't know about Kenny. That way it would at least seem like a decent secret.

"Go ahead." He said, shrugging his shoulders, "Tell him what it is."

Cartman was curiously silent for a moment. Kyle could feel the other's eyes on him from a few feet away.

"You don't want me to do that, Kyle."

Kyle had to admit he was a little freaked out by the chill of Cartman's tone but that didn't stop him from pressing the buttons at his fingertips, throwing together combo moves as if he weren't ever so slightly fearing for his life. But really, there was nothing for him to worry about. The worst Cartman could do was blab, and that wouldn't be a problem at all.

"Whatever, dude." Kyle kept up his confident act, grinning as his character finally achieved a spin-kick.

"You don't _want_ that, _Kyle_." Cartman said sternly, his voice quivering slightly from repressed anger.

"Couldn't care less." Kyle's grin turned upside down, his lips nearly pouting as Stan's character recuperated and jumped up again, only to fling some sort of energy-zapping seed pod Kyle's way. That was just cheating….

"It's for your own _good_, Kyle." He could practically imagine Cartman gripping the armrests of his chair but didn't bother turning around to see if it was really happening. He kept his mouth shut, simply smiling smugly as he tried to gain back dominance in the game.

"_Goddammit_, Kyle." Cartman sounded like he was ready to explode.

"No, really." Kyle said, smirking in a way that he knew had to be unnerving, "What do you know about me that's _so_ secret?"

He actually did turn around now, just enough to see Cartman's right eye twitch.

The large boy bristled, his cheeks going pink. Obviously he was displeased with Kyle's reaction. He'd probably been waiting all this time, hoping to see Kyle yell and curse, to squirm in embarrassment, to maybe even beg for him to keep his mouth shut. Angrily, he spat, "You're a fuckin' fag!"

If he had been expecting any sort of reaction from the three other boys, he must have been sorely disappointed. Looking around the room there were only blank faces staring back at him. The soundtrack of the game played quietly in the background as Stan and Kyle stopped their frantic thumb-movements. The three boys on the couch stared at Cartman, all waiting for someone to make a move. Kenny was the first one to smile.

"Nice job, genius."

Kyle couldn't help but smile after that, quickly breaking into a laugh, which he muffled behind his hand. Stan, seated beside him, rolled his eyes and paused the game.

"What the fuck?" Cartman snarled, because he couldn't possibly think of anything else to say.

"Me and Kyle are going out, dude." Kenny explained, slowly, as if speaking to someone very stupid.

"I know that!" Cartman snapped, looking like he was ready to bite the other boy's head off.

"And I already told Stan." Kyle said with a satisfied smirk, then looked to his best friend for confirmation. Stan shrugged and nodded, giving Cartman an almost apologetic look.

Kyle's smile became all the more smug as he watched Cartman try to reason it all out and eventually come to the conclusion that his evil schemes had been ruined before they'd even had a chance to start. After a moment spent frowning at the floor, however, Cartman looked up with an all too familiar gleam in his eye.

"Your mom doesn't know."

He said it like he knew. Like it was a fact.

"I already told her, fatass." Kyle lied easily, deadpan expression shifting into place, "You think I'd hide something like that from her? She'd go ballistic."

Kenny and Stan, to their credit, made no move to betray the lie.

Cartman glared across the room at him, then, sighing, reclined in his chair, "Fair enough, Kyle."

He still spoke with the air of an evil villain, but Kyle could tell from the way he steepled his fingers, applying just a little too much pressure against each hand, that he was not pleased about being thwarted.

Gameplay resumed, with Kyle and Stan pitting their chosen characters against one another. The room was filled with the sounds of video game violence and occasional teasing insults. Kyle noticed Kenny moving closer to him, practically laying on him as he played. With their secret out in the open, they could do this all the time, couldn't they? He grinned at the idea.

Kyle had Stan's character stuck against a wall and was kicking him repeatedly in the face when a laugh from the corner broke his concentration. He didn't bother turning to look at Cartman, instead asking in a bored tone, "What?" If Cartman was laughing, something unpleasant was sure to follow. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the larger boy smirking.

"So…you and Kenny, eh?"

Kyle shot him a quick dirty look then cursed under his breath. Stan's character had managed to jump over his and was now attempting to pin him against the wall instead. He spun his own character around and tried in vain to stab Stan's with the first many-pointed weapon he could find in his inventory. "Yes." He said sharply, and a moment later saw Kenny nod, frowning in a way that clearly said, 'I'm right here, you know.'

Cartman sighed another evil villain sigh, shaking his head. He crossed one leg over the other, completing the arch-nemesis look he'd been going for, "Well damn, Kyle… you couldn't at least set your sights a little higher?"

The other three boys tensed, Kenny and Kyle both frowning while Stan glanced furtively at Cartman, looking worried.

"I really thought you were better than that." Cartman continued, earning a low growl from Kyle.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" he snapped, gripping his game controller too tightly to play properly.

Cartman shrugged his wide shoulders and uncrossed his legs, only to re-cross them the opposite way, "At least go for someone with a little bit of money to their name," he looked quickly to Kenny, then back to Kyle, staring straight at him as he waited for a reaction, "…otherwise you're gonna have to start dipping into your Jewgold before you even think about buyin' that white picket fence you've always wanted."

That did it.

Kyle whipped around to glare at Cartman, a sneer on his lips as he said, "Go fuck yourself, Cartman! At least I can find someone who actually likes me."

Beside him, Kenny flinched slightly. On his other side, Stan sighed as he kicked Kyle's character once, twice, then gave up and paused the game again.

"Oh, is that it?" Cartman said with a laugh, enjoying himself now that he was getting some of the typical Kyle-response he'd been expecting, "You think he'll make a nice baby-daddy? Hope you like poptarts, Kyle."

Kyle's face grew hot, the urge to punch something, namely Cartman, rising.

"On second thought, forget the baby-dady thing. He'd never pay child support." Cartman made a face, looking momentarily disgusted, "Besides, they'd be fuckin' ginger babies."

Kyle was all set to launch himself at Cartman when he felt a hand on his arm, holding him back without physically holding him down.

"Let's go." Kenny said quietly, and stood up.

Kyle didn't want to go. He wanted to beat the shit out of Cartman. He tried to relay this information to Kenny, but was silenced by the strained, sad look Kenny gave him.

"Let's _go_." He repeated, and this time Kyle stood. He allowed Kenny to pull him gently toward the door and despite feeling like his blood could boil, he kept his mouth shut. Even as Cartman laughed and made some remark about both of them needing to adjust their panty liners, Kyle bit his lip and walked on.

Behind him, Kyle heard the oddly recognizable sound of a worn out pillow hitting the side of someone's head with surprising force, followed by a startled cry and a muttered, "Way to go, dumbass."

He made a mental note to thank Stan for that later and picked up his pace, following Kenny to the front door and out of the house.

*

With no where else of interest to go to take their minds off of their unpleasant confrontation with Cartman, Kyle and Kenny simply went back to Kenny's house. Kenny's father and sister were home, but neither of them cared to bother the boys once they were inside Kenny's room. They'd barely looked up when Kenny came through the front door and declared that he wasn't dead yet, and that he had a friend who might be staying for dinner.

Shut up in Kenny's room, they were perfectly happy to sit together on the spacious but lumpy mattress and try to think of ways to keep themselves amused. This consisted mostly of kissing and poking each other, the preferred pastime of all sickeningly sweet couples. All of their cuddling and goofing off put them in much better moods. Or at least, it put Kyle in a much better mood.

"Are you really sure you want to go out with me?" Kenny asked out of the blue.

Apparently his thoughts were still stuck back in Cartman's living room.

Trying to stay cheerful, Kyle poked Kenny in the side, saying, "Of course." When Kenny pouted at him he simply poked his protruding lower lip instead, "Don't take any of what Cartman says to heart. You know he's just an asshole."

Kenny sucked his lip back in favor of biting it gently, worrying the skin under his teeth, "Yeah, but he's an asshole who's right a lot."

Kyle rolled his eyes at that, flopping back to lie down on Kenny's bed. Really? When the hell was Cartman ever right? Sure, he did seem to have his finger on the pulse of the world at odd times, but that was just because he lucked his way into things. In reality he was dumb as a box of rocks. A box of rocks with a sadistic streak.

"No he isn't." he corrected, "He's a dumbass, remember? He never knows what he's talking about."

Kenny frowned down at him, unconvinced.

"Ah, come on, Kenny." Kyle sighed loudly. Honestly, Kenny could be so sensitive and stressed out sometimes. It always amazed Kyle when he was, since most of the time he acted completely unfazed, like the world could fall away around him and he'd just shrug his shoulders. Wanting to bring this conversation to a clean, quick end, Kyle smiled up Kenny reassuringly, "You know I don't give a crap about how much money you have or any of that. I like you, so I'm going out with you.

Kenny stared through him rather than at him, looking like he was concentrating very hard on something that Kyle couldn't possibly begin to understand.

Kyle sat up slightly, supporting himself on his elbows. "What?" he asked, a half-laughing tone to his voice, "What's with the serious face?"

Kenny blinked, his pupils visibly contracting as he looked at Kyle in a way that made him feel as though he were finally being noticed. Kyle watched as he glanced away, then back, and tipped his head to the side questioningly.

"Do you love me?"

Kyle's smile faltered. He blinked in confusion, his brain not entirely registering the meaning of Kenny's words.

"What?"

Kenny kept looking at him, patiently waiting. "Do you love me?" he repeated, his tone even, almost too calm to be real.

"Uh…." That was all Kyle could manage at first. It wasn't every day someone asked a question like that. After all, love? That was some pretty serious shit right there.

Kyle squirmed under Kenny's gaze. He was smiling sincerely enough but Kyle could already see the disappointment in his face. Kyle knew he had to act fast, or risk hurting Kenny's feelings worse than he ever had before. He answered the question with a tight, clipped, "Yes."

With that word out in the open, Kyle felt a wave of relief wash over him. That hadn't been so hard. He'd been telling Stan that he was in love with Kenny all this time anyway, right? So this was no different. Except that he didn't know if Kenny felt the same. For a brief, terrifying moment Kyle thought perhaps Kenny had lured that piece of information out of him in preparation for a break up. Maybe he'd been hoping to hear otherwise. But no, Kenny wouldn't do that to him. Kenny wasn't a heartless bastard. Forcing himself to smile, Kyle said, "Yes. I guess I do love you."

Kenny's grin was incredibly reassuring.

"Sweet." Kenny said coolly, although the way his breath made a slight hitched noise after the word made Kyle wonder just how calm and collected he really was.

Kenny leaned in to kiss him and Kyle let him, keeping his eyes open as he waited. There was more to that response, right? Kenny had to say something more than 'sweet.'

"I love you too."

Feeling someone murmur soft, sweet words against your lips was awfully nice.

With a sigh of relief, Kyle reached up to pull Kenny down closer to him, pressing their mouths together more firmly.

That movement was the start of a series of kisses that didn't stop until Kenny's mother came home and called everyone out for dinner.

Of course, after twenty minutes of slightly awkward dinner conversation and poking at plates of disappointingly plain rice they went straight back to Kenny's room and started up again. Except this time, they were much closer together, touching in ways that could hardly be considered innocent. Kyle wondered if maybe this was what people meant about moving too fast, but pushed the thought from his mind as Kenny whispered, once again, that he loved him.

"I really, really do." Kenny insisted, his face flushed as he nuzzled against Kyle's cheek, "I love you more than anyone else…ever. I'm completely serious."

The honesty in his voice made Kyle fidget with embarrassment. He didn't know how to respond to this. Except to kiss Kenny back every chance he got. He worked his mouth against Kenny's with enough passion to match Kenny's own and allowed his hands to wander up and down Kenny's side, the same way Kenny let his fingers move over Kyle's hips.

Then, suddenly, Kyle found himself gasping in more than just surprise. Kenny's fingers had brushed inconspicuously over the crotch of his jeans, leaving Kyle blushing up to the tips of his ears.

"Um…"

Kenny looked up at him, apologetic smile on his face, and asked, "You don't mind, do you?"

And once again, Kyle had no idea how to respond. He didn't mind what? Kenny accidentally touching him, or…or _not_ accidentally touching him? Before he had a chance to give that question the thought it required, Kenny's hand was pressing against him again.

"Hm?" Kenny smirked, proving that his earlier bashful expression had been completely fake, "It's okay, right? Feels nice?"

Kyle squirmed slightly, mouth hanging open as he searched desperately for a response.

"It- eh…yeah." He admitted. Of course it felt good. For the first time in his life someone was touching him in a sexual way. And while it wasn't happening exactly the way he thought it might, it was arousing all the same.

"So can I…?" Kenny seemed slightly impatient.

Kyle fought back thoughts of peer pressure, trying to clear his brain and _think_. Did he want to do that kind of thing? Sure he'd like to. The real question was, should he? Was he actually ready to take their relationship to that sort of level? It all seemed to be happening pretty fast, but he figured that was the way things happened with horny teenagers in love.

"I don't know…." He said, being as honest as he could.

Kenny laughed lightly, pulling his hand back a little, "You don't know?"

His tone made Kyle blush again, made him feel stupid for answering the way he had.

"I don't know if we should do that…just yet."

And damn it all, Kenny had the nerve to pout.

"Oh…."

Kyle smiled an apologetic smile of his own.

Kenny moved his hand back up to rest on Kyle's thigh, a slightly more acceptable location.

"I just thought…" he trailed off, shaking his head, "Never mind."

Kyle cursed mentally, the first pangs of guilt already setting in. He _hated_ hearing Kenny sound so disappointed.

"What?" he asked softly, reaching up to brush a hand across Kenny's cheek. It was the sweetest, most romantic gesture he could think of at the moment and he wanted to be extra kind, considering the way he'd just ruined Kenny's plans.

Kenny shook his head again, but stopped to enjoy Kyle's touch. He continued what he'd been saying, smiling sadly, "I just thought that, y'know, since we're being all honest, having a heart to heart and crap…." He shrugged his shoulders, "I figured it'd be nice to do something, since I thought we were both in the mood. But I guess if you're not, that's okay."

Kyle kept his mouth shut for fear of betraying the fact that he was in the mood. Of course he was in the mood. How could he not be? Kenny was just…fuck. But Kyle was trying so hard to let reason rule his actions, he couldn't let his hormones take control now.

Kenny's smile shifted, taking on a sly curve to the side, "I was just hoping to make you feel good." He said sweetly, then less sweetly, "And I kind of really wanted to blow you."

That bit of information had Kyle's brain short-circuiting. Oh dear god, why did Kenny have to be like this? Like a…like a sexy thing. Kyle was almost too flustered to notice Kenny's hand inching back down his thigh. Almost.

"Goddammit, Kenny…" Kyle muttered, making a quiet, whining noise that he really wished he didn't know how to make.

Kenny quirked an eyebrow at him, a victorious smile already in place,

"Fine." Kyle snapped, "Fine, we can…you can…ah…fuck. Do something."

Kenny took that as permission to move his hand back to where it had previously been.

Kyle knew this was a bad idea. He knew he'd just been pulled in with one of the very tricks they warned you about in every high school health class. He knew that if he told Stan about this he'd have to endure a dozen disapproving looks, all from his best friend.

But there was just no way he could turn Kenny down when he gave him puppy dog eyes from between his legs.

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Phew boy. Long chapter. Thanks again everybody for the lovely reviews. I really enjoy hearing what you guys think, and of course the words of encouragement are always appreciated. I hope these chapters are coming out okay, considering they're un-beta'd.


	8. You'll Get Your Faceness On It

South Park doesn't belong to me.

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Kenny wasn't really one for paying attention in math at any time, but today he was especially distracted. In a good way, though, and that was a new experience for him. Normally he found himself drifting off into daydreams of unobtainable wealth and women, musings on life and death, and memories of the thousands of awful things that had happened to him that he really just wanted to forget. It was just depressing, honestly. But now he had something nice to think about. While his teacher droned on about the square root of who give's a fuck, Kenny stared blankly at the head of the girl sitting in front of him, his dreamy expression hidden by the fabric of his parka, and thought of Kyle. He thought of what they'd done last night, just as he'd been doing since the moment Kyle went home.

Kenny had definitely enjoyed watching Kyle squirm and blush and clutch at the sheets when he came, but he really had to hand it to the guy for being so dropdead gorgeous when he was frustrated. Because of course Kyle had insisted on returning the favor. Learning to suck cock was a difficult task for him, not being blessed with the natural talent Kenny had, but once he got the hang of it he was _perfect_. Watching him at work, his expression so adorably serious, one hand pushing a few stray curls back out of his eyes- Kenny shivered slightly inside his parka. A quick glance around assured him that no one had noticed.

Immediately after the act, when Kyle had been awkwardly trying to figure out if he was supposed to cuddle or not, Kenny had been slightly concerned that perhaps he pushed things too far. Maybe he'd been just a little too manipulative about this. Maybe it had been a bad idea. But when Kyle pulled him into a hug, squishing Kenny's cheek flat against his still-clothed chest, Kenny knew that everything was okay. He'd done good. Kyle had wanted to do this all along, too. He just hadn't been willing to admit it, obviously.

Like every other student who's internal clocks ran on high school time, Kenny was able to look to the clock in time to realize how little time there was left in the period. He began gathering up his things, excited to get out of here and go to lunch, where he could see Kyle. He shoved his pencil in the pocket of his parka, folded his math dittos in half to fit them there as well, then spent the next thirty seconds (thirty-two, really, he knew he had exactly thirty-two seconds left of class,) replaying the memory of Kyle swallowing, blushing, murmuring that it was no big deal, really, and licking the fingers of one hand clean for good measure. The bell signaling the end of the period droned through the halls, sounding like an emergency broadcast system tone, and Kenny scurried out of the classroom at the center of a mass of students.

*

"Hey."

It was a simple, entirely acceptable greeting, and Kenny was glad to have received it from Kyle. To have gotten a kiss or a flustered response upon sitting down at their usual table would have been weird. It was strangely nice to have Kyle talk to him the same way he always had, like they were still just friends, even though every emotion behind that quiet 'hey' was a blaze of feeling that made his insides flip pleasantly.

"Hey." He repeated the word and smiled, then full-out grinned as Kyle smiled back.

"Fags." Cartman said sharply, not bothering to look at them in favor of finishing his sandwich.

Kenny nudged Kyle with his foot under the table before he could get himself riled up. They didn't need a fight breaking out this early in the lunch hour.

"Yup." Kenny said sunnily, and reached across the table to steal a chip from the bag in front of his boyfriend.

"At least we don't make out in front of you." Kyle offered, smirking at Cartman before looking to Kenny almost proudly, as if to say, 'See? I can talk to people without biting their heads off sometimes.'

Cartman made a gagging noise and choked out, "Thank _Jesus_ for that!"

Kenny, munching on his stolen chip, noticed Stan nodding in earnest agreement and was both amused and slightly offended.

"I think I'd hurl if I had to sit here and watch you two trying to climb into each other's pants every day." Cartman shook his head slowly, sighing, then turned to face Kenny, "Although I am curious…"

Cartman paused and Kenny hesitated before raising an eyebrow, taking the bait, "Hm?"

Cartman leaned close to him, as if they were sharing a secret, but spoke loudly enough for the whole table to hear, "Does Kyle moan like a little bitch?"

It was right on the tip of Kenny's tongue to say that no, Kyle did not moan like a little bitch. That as a matter of fact, he moaned like Kyle, which was a very soft, sexy, almost pleading, profanity-laced way to moan.

"Dude-" Stan said loudly, breaking Kenny out of his thoughts, "_Not_ cool."

"What?" Cartman exclaimed, faking surprise, "I figured Kenny should know, since he's the one fucking him. Right?" He laughed out loud as Kyle gave a warning growl.

Kenny took a moment to smirk in amusement at the fact that Cartman assumed he was the one doing the fucking. Of course he'd love to top for Kyle, but he would just as soon take it up the ass. Whatever Kyle wanted to do, really. Kenny was up for anything.

"That's not really for you to know," was Kenny's teasing response.

Half a beat later, like he'd been waiting for permission to speak, Stan gave the much more sensible answer of, "You do realize they've only been…together, for a few weeks, right?"

Kenny couldn't help but smirk at that. As if Stan knew everything that went on in their relationship. Oh, fuck. He kind of did, didn't he? Kenny looked between Stan and Kyle, suddenly curious as to whether or not Stan had heard about his and Kyle's recent activities.

Cartman looked at the three of them dubiously, making a small noise of disbelief, "No way."

Kyle sounded tired as he asked, "No way, what?"

Kenny gave Cartman a questioning look as well, though he didn't speak. He didn't usually have to when Kyle or Stan were around.

"No way you two aren't sodomizing your way to success!"

Kenny glanced down the table to see if any of the other guys were paying attention. Bebe, from her seat in the tiny cluster that was the 'girl' section, looked vaguely interested. Everyone else was ignoring them, apparently.

No one answered Cartman, and after a moment, he leaned back and looked them all over once more.

"Really?"

Three blank faces stared back at him, until finally Kyle snapped, "Is it that fucking difficult to grasp?"

Cartman snorted in obvious amusement and, after an angry, questioning glance from Kyle, said, "You mean to tell me that you two _seriously_ haven't fucked yet?" He waited for an answer and seemed pleased when he didn't receive one. It meant he was able to continue taunting, "Goddamn, Kenny, you're really taking your time with this one, huh?"  
Kenny felt heat rush to his face as looked up at Kyle, honestly concerned at what he might make of what Cartman had said.

He didn't give a flying fuck what Cartman thought of the choices they made in their sex life, especially when he was basically wrong in his assumptions, but he didn't like the sound of what was being implied.

Kenny had something of a reputation after all, and Kyle hadn't minded it so far, but Kenny was worried that he might suddenly decide that it mattered.

"Fuck off, fatass." Kyle snapped, unknowingly keeping Kenny on the edge of his seat by not looking back at him, "Why do you even bother talking about things you don't know anything about?"  
He finally glanced Kenny's way, allowing their eyes to meet for a second, silently assuring Kenny that everything was still okay. Kenny breathed a sigh of relief and leaned over the table, smirking at Cartman as he tried to appear as relaxed as possible.

"Seriously, dude."

Stan was watching the exchange with a frown, looking confused and a little annoyed, and Kenny sent a smile his way, as well.

"Speaking of, how are things on your end of the sex spectrum, Don Juan?"

It was just a joke. Kenny liked to badger Stan about his sex life to piss him off and embarrass him from time to time, and Stan usually just gave him a smartassed, sarcastic response.

For a moment though, Stan looked angry, and when he opened his mouth Kenny feared that he might say something he didn't want to hear. Thankfully, Cartman gracelessly interrupted.

"No, no, no- really?" He sneered at Kyle from across the table, ignoring Kenny in favor of his favorite target, "What are you, on your period or something, Kyle? Kenny _seriously_ hasn't gotten you into bed yet?"

Kenny meant to stand up for himself, and for Kyle, but he was too distracted by Kyle's blushing, indignant, adorable expression to do so.

Stan beat him to it, "Dude, just shut up. Can you stop being a dipshit for, like, five seconds?"

That actually shut Cartman up for a minute. Why, Kenny didn't know. It wasn't profound or hurtful or threatening. More than anything else, he figured, Cartman just respected Stan the most out of the three of them.

Not enough to lay off completely, though.

" Just sayin' is all… the Kenny _I _know would have at _least_ talked you into giving him head. Even if you were on the rag."

Kyle had no poker face to speak of, and his expression, along with the shade of red his face was turning, was all too telling.

Kenny fought to keep himself looking neutral and disinterested, only rolling his eyes as if what Cartman had suggested was ridiculous. Never mind that he was practically right on the ball.

The thing was, most of the girls Kenny had gone out with before dating Kyle had been attention hungry trailer park sluts with daddy issues, eager to prove to themselves that they were sexy enough to get a guy off. Kenny hadn't exactly talked them into anything, but he certainly hadn't been about to tell any of them _not_ to touch him.

So Cartman was kind of right.

And Kyle had, as a matter of fact, given him head just the other night. But that was a very, very different situation. Kyle was smart and sexy without trying, and while he had seemed pretty eager to get Kenny off, that was only because he was so stubborn, and possibly because he'd just had his mind blown by Kenny himself.

Kenny smirked a little at that thought, then realized that he must look like he was agreeing with Cartman. Which he wasn't. Because Cartman was only half-right, and he knew it would be wrong to let his and Kyle's secret sexual affairs out in the open. He sat back and played like he had no idea what was going on.

Kyle wasn't so smooth.

"He didn't have to talk me into anything."

The words were quick and quiet, spiteful as a knife in the back and just harsh enough to hide the shame Kyle had to be feeling as he said them. He'd admitted to nothing and everything, leaving Cartman gawking and Stan blinking in surprise.

So maybe Stan hadn't heard about his and Kyle's night of passion after all?

The silence dragged heavily between the four of them, and before Kenny could think of anything funny to say to break it, Cartman snapped out of his stupor.

"Aw…Aw! Sick!"

Kenny couldn't tell if he was honestly disgusted, or just faking it. Either way, it was annoying, and was sure to piss Kyle off.

Kenny looked at him, smiling an apologetic smile, ready to calm him down in case he flew off the handle, but found that Kyle was already staring intently at Stan.

Ah, shit.

Stan, of all people, was the one who looked pissed off, whereas Kyle was managing to appear defensive and guilt ridden at the same time. He mouthed something to Stan, Kenny didn't know what, and after a moment's hesitation, Stan nodded, looking like he'd just been forced to swallow a lemon.

At the other end of the table, he heard Butters ask, "What's wrong, fellas? Did I miss something?"

"Only everything." Was the response from Craig, who hadn't been paying attention either, but knew enough about the way these things worked to know that there was no use trying to find out what had just happened.

Cartman looked like he was gearing up for a bit of retching and gagging, so Kenny jumped to intervene. He leaned up against Cartman, much to the other boy's displeasure, and said, "How about you, ol' buddy ol' pal? Seen any sexy ladies, lately?"

Watching Cartman fumble for a response other than, "Get the fuck off me!" had Stan, Kyle and Kenny laughing together again. With yet another crisis averted they were all able to go back to their normal lunchtime activities, filling up on crappy cafeteria food and complaining about how much high school sucked, despite the fact that they were all pretty happy there.

Somewhere in the course of the conversation, Kenny found himself holding hands with Kyle under their table, not minding that Kyle held on just a little too tight.

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Been a while, huh? Little over four months, if I'm not mistaken. This chapter is actually a bit lackluster for my triumphant return to this story, but- hey, I'm just glad to have gotten back to it at all. Thanks to everybody who stuck with it and read this chapter, and to all of you who review/favorite/whatever. You can expect a hell of a lot more fun in the next few chapters, folks. Conflict, conflict, conflict- wonderful.


	9. I'd Take the Bracelet, I'm Just Sayin'

South Park doesn't belong to me.

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On any given afternoon, assuming it was a school day, you could expect to find Stan and Kyle walking together, talking and laughing, in one of three directions; toward the small line of buses parked in front of their school, out to the parking lot behind the school building to get to Kyle's dad's car, or past all vehicles entirely, should they choose to walk home. Today, Kyle had been blessed with the gift of car usage, so after visiting each of their lockers, the pair made their way out of the building and ventured to the far reaches of the parking lot.

They were not talking, and certainly not laughing.

Since Kyle's confession at lunch, there had been tension between them, an unspoken air of guilt, anger and underlying confusion that weighed on Stan's shoulders and kept Kyle's head lowered in unwelcome shame. Kyle had silently promised, speaking mostly with his eyes, to explain everything to Stan later. But neither of them had been particularly interested in resurrecting the conversation until now. Still not now. But something had to be said, and if anyone was going to speak, it was going to be Kyle.

"Dude…." Kyle's fingers were clenched tight around his keys and Stan only half-looked at him as they separated, taking different paths to reach their destinations on either side of Mr. Broflovski's car. Kyle unlocked his door, then slid into the driver's seat and allowed Stan inside as well, not yet bothering to buckle his seat belt as he tried to finish what he'd started, "It's really not-"

"A big deal?" Stan interrupted, his expression entirely unassuming, one eyebrow ever so slightly quirked in just such a way that Kyle wanted to beat the living daylights out of him.

Kyle swallowed a choked, angry noise and shot a glare in Stan's direction, trying to act as though that hadn't at all been what he was going to say. There was no point trying to fool Stan, though. The two of them practically shared a brain.

"Well it isn't!" Kyle countered, and felt stupidly like he was a kid again, having an argument with his mother. He wondered if he should point that out to Stan, that he reminded him of his mother sometimes, maybe scare him into realizing that he was becoming overbearing. But then again, no. Bad idea.

Stan folded his arms as he leaned back in the passenger's seat, stretching his legs out in front of him till he could point his toes, "Dude, it is kind of a big deal. You had sex with Kenny. Right?"

Now Kyle was glad he hadn't said anything nasty to Stan. He didn't sound so much angry as he did concerned, and Kyle's guilty conscience stabbed at his insides yet again. He had to remind himself to stay angry; it was none of Stan's business who he slept with, goddammit. And he should tell him that.

Instead, he said, "Kind of."

Stan gave him just the look needed to convey that he was a total ass, and Kyle rolled his eyes and clarified, "We didn't fuck or anything, okay? Just…oral sex. No big deal." And before Stan could open his mouth to say anything, added, "After all, you and Wendy have done it, right?"

He knew that for a fact, actually. Stan and Wendy had gotten at least as far on the grand sexual scale as he and Kenny had, so Stan was in no position to point fingers.

The bit of color that rushed to Stan's cheeks as he clenched his fingers against the fabric of his sweatshirt, probably experiencing one of his typical bouts of nausea, was a satisfying sight. Then it occurred to Kyle that Stan was probably one of the only people he knew, one of the only people in the world, practically, who got so stupidly flustered at the mention of sex with his (on again, off again) girlfriend. Stan was so…modest. So easily tormented. Kyle felt like a dick.

"It's not about what you did," Stan said, turning slightly in his seat to face Kyle, "I don't give a fuck what you and Kenny do in bed, or…wherever it is he likes to get his rocks off," he paused, shaking his head, "I'm just like…I mean…Just seems kind of soon for that, is all."

Kyle shifted uncomfortably, all of his misgivings about the situation rushing back to meet him, making the muscles in his chest clench uncomfortably. He tried to sound as defiant as possible when he asked, "What? You think we rushed or something?"

Stan stared at him intently for a moment. Then he turned his hips, bringing his gaze back to the windshield, "I don't know. I mean, it's…it's a personal thing, I guess. How long you wait."

Right, Kyle thought. It's personal, and that's why Stan shouldn't be concerning himself with it.

"I just worry about you, dude."

The sighed comment made Kyle angrier than anything else and completely overshadowed any feelings of guilt. He whipped around to face Stan, face going hot as he practically yelled, "I don't need fucking protecting!"

His voice was far too loud within the close quarters of the car, making him wince.

He hardly expected Stan to yell back.

"You're not as smart as you think you are!"

The words had Kyle physically falling back, ending up wedged somewhere between his seat and the car door, staring in open-mouthed shock as his best friend suddenly grew a pair of balls and beat him over the head with them.

"You're not fucking impervious to everything, Kyle." Stan sniped, gripping his own arms and only half-watching Kyle, looking too embarrassed to actually meet his eyes, "You can get hurt, and you can get taken advantage of just like everybody else. I've seen it happen before, and I don't want to see it happen again."

Kyle's emotions pulled in two directions; he wanted to hug Stan in a show of completely faggy bromance for being such a caring, sweet person, but at the same time he was reminded that Stan was only being like this because he didn't trust Kenny.

Still angry, the need to stick up for his boyfriend eventually won out, but he kept his voice softer than usual as he said, "Kenny's not taking advantage of me."

Stan stiffened slightly, nervously, as though he'd been found out.

Kyle scooted forward in his seat, so as not to look like a retard any longer, and pressed on, "And even if he was, I could handle it myself."

Stan was still and silent for a while, until finally, he nodded.

"I know you could." He smiled then, and the tension in the air vanished, as if it had never been there at all, "Since you're badass like that."

Kyle cracked a grin, "Of course."

The two of them buckled their seat belts, settling in as Kyle slipped the key into the ignition.

Then he hesitated.

Now that things were cool between him and Stan again (if only everything in the world was so easily repaired,) he felt the need to explain himself as he had promised he would, without any misplaced frustration.

"You know I love him." He said, glancing sideways at Stan and knowing that yes, Stan knew, without even having to wait for an answer, "And he really is a good boyfriend. I mean, he's great to me. Great for me. He's just great in general."

Stan nodded, looking somewhat abashed, "I know, dude. You guys are…good together, honestly."

Kyle smiled slightly, a thrill of excitement running up along his spine. That was exactly what he needed to hear from his best friend right now.

"And I know why you'd think I'm getting taken advantage of or whatever." Kyle shrugged his shoulders, still thinking this a ridiculous notion, "I know Kenny always acts like a total horndog and a mooch and…yeah. But he's not the parasite you might think he is."

Stan looked almost ready to curl up in a ball and die, at this point. Probably, Kyle imagined, out of guilt for thinking negatively of one of his friends. Kyle knew exactly how he felt.

Smirking, Kyle started the car, and as the engine gave a gentle roar, said, "He blew me, first."

That had Stan choking on nothing, which Kyle found absolutely hysterical. He bit his lip to suppress the laughter and began fiddling with the knobs on the dashboard, trying to turn the heat on. He looked up to see Stan staring at him, the horrified curiosity clear on his face, and grinned.

"It was _nice_." He said, because he couldn't help but gloat a little, "And…I returned the favor. I figured it was the least I could do."

Stan laughed a little at that, still sounding a bit overwhelmed, which only made Kyle laugh again. The air in the car was gradually warming up, bringing the feeling back into Kyle's toes, which were always a little cold.

"I don't think he expected me to." Kyle spoke suddenly, before he could think better of it. There was something that had been nagging him, something he couldn't bring up to anyone else, and this was the time to get it off his chest.

"What do you mean?" Stan asked, all humor gone from his expression. As Kyle's best friend, he always knew when to be serious.

Kyle shrugged his shoulders, simply for the ease of the movement, to distract himself from the awkwardness now catching in his throat. He wasn't sure if he should talk about this aspect of his relationship with Kenny with anyone. But if he couldn't talk to Stan about something, then, well…he was fucked.

"I don't think he was expecting me to…reciprocate." Kyle said, and channeled his nervous energy into jiggling his left foot, "Like, he'd get me off and…that'd be it." He didn't have to look at Stan to know that he was wearing that same old sympathetic expression, "I just think his self esteem is totally fucked up, y'know?" He did look at Stan then, smirking slightly when he realized he was right about the look on his friend's face, "He jokes around like he's god's gift, but under all that he's really-"  
"Vulnerable." Stan interrupted with precisely the right word again, and Kyle nodded.

"Yeah…." Kyle took a deep breath, let it out in a sigh, "I just feel like I want to take care of him, do everything for him…fix stuff."

He looked down, then up, at the feel of Stan's hand on his leg, gripping just above the knee and shaking him slightly, the way boys are prone to do when they're comforting one another.

Stan pulled his hand back just as soon as he'd put it down, but the sentiment had been properly conveyed, "I know how you feel, dude."  
Kyle thought of every pep rally, watching Stan run off to give Wendy a hug and a water bottle just as she was ready to collapse after a day of being high strung and in charge. He thought of Stan sitting at a cafeteria table alone with Wendy, ignoring everything else in the world just so he could listen to her talk about how happy she was to have finally gotten enough money to print the yearbooks in color, or cry because some girl she barely knew had badmouthed her new hairstyle. He thought of the way Stan talked Wendy down from confrontations with teachers she deemed ignorant or prejudiced, the way he'd hold her hand and brush his fingers through her hair and insist that she was too good for all of this.

Of course Stan knew how he felt.

Kyle responded to the tender moment accordingly.

"Careful dude. People are going to start thinking you're gay for me, the way you act."

Stan made a face and punched him in the arm, saying, "Yeah, especially with the way your fucking windshield is fogged up. They'll think I'm raping you in your car, dude."

Kyle snorted in laughter and flipped the windshield wipers on in a vain attempt to clear the window, then put the car in reverse, only to stop as he checked his rearview mirror.

"Speaking of rape…."

The familiar form of Eric Cartman was behind them some thirty or so feet, standing within the fenced in portion of the sports fields, gesticulating wildly and shouting to a smaller, blonder person crouched on the other side of the fence.

As Kyle pulled out of his parking spot and began the loop around the lot toward the exit, he noticed the collection of power tools and large canvas bags scattered around Cartman, and said to Stan, "Dude, roll down the window and make sure he isn't actually trying to kill Butters."

Stan did so, and leaned out of the car a little, keenly listening for a moment before straightening out in his seat and rolling the window up again.

After an expectant look from Kyle, he shrugged and said, "I have no idea. Cartman was saying, "C'mon, Butters, we injected you with meteor dust, you should be able to lift a goddamn fence." Does…that make any sense to you?"

Not look away from the road ahead of him, Kyle answered, "Not even a little."

*

Heading to Kenny's after dropping Stan off at his house had seemed like the best course of action to Kyle. His dad didn't need the car back for the rest of the evening, and technically he didn't have to be back until dinner, so why not take a ride over to see his boyfriend?

First things first, Kenny had wanted to know if things were okay with Stan. Kyle thought this sweet, and kind of funny. Kenny wanted to make sure he wasn't coming between Kyle and Stan's friendship, and also to check and see if he had to worry about Stan kicking his ass any time soon. After assuring him that everything was right in the world, they were able to get down to exactly what Kyle had hoped to achieve from a visit to Kenny's: hanging out, kissing, and cuddling.

Not that Kyle called it cuddling, because that sounded way too gay.

For Kyle, initiating cuddling meant flopping onto Kenny's bed, spreading his arms wide open and saying, "Come over here and give me a fucking hug."

And since there was no one at Kenny's house aside from them and his mother, who wouldn't bother them anyway, Kenny had been more than happy to give Kyle a hug. And a kiss. And grope his ass once he got Kyle to roll over.

After nearly two hours spent wrapped up in each other, talking about nonsense and teasing one another with a torturous combination of kissing, tickling, pinching (and, in Kyle's case, sucking on Kenny's fingers seductively before biting them with a vengeance,) a glance at the beat to shit alarm clock on the floor beside Kenny's bed brought an end to the fun.

"I should go home, dude." Kyle sighed, though he made no effort to free his arm, which was currently trapped under Kenny's torso, or remove his fingers from Kenny's hip, where they were carefully stroking a sharply angled hipbone.

Kenny's response was soft and unintelligible, a groan that might have been "No," but could just as easily be, "Poe."

Kyle doubted Kenny was talking about any dead poets.

"I have to be home for dinner." Kyle said, and actually pulled his hand away from Kenny's hip this time, instead brushing a hand over his shoulder to encourage him to move off of his arm.

Kenny grumbled, grudgingly sitting up so Kyle could have his arm back, "Or your mom will hunt you down, yeah, yeah, yeah…."

Kyle rolled his eyes, cradling his arm close to him now that he had it back, "You know I'd rather stay here with you."

Not entirely true. Ideally, he would bring Kenny home with him and they'd have a nice dinner together despite his mother's chatter, his father's daydreaming and his brother's not at all witty, overly depressing, sarcastic teenaged comments.

But Kenny's mom really _would_ hunt him down, and possibly put his head on a pike, if he missed a dinner with his family on a day that he wasn't already dead.

Kyle looked down to see Kenny grinning mischievously and realized too late that he should have gotten off the bed. Kenny's arms wrapped around him and pulled him back down to the mattress with surprising strength for being attached to such a thin body.

"So stay!" Kenny insisted, "Just call and tell her you're staying here for dinner," Kenny lowered his voice slightly, but not enough to keep Kyle from hearing, "And for another fan-fucking-tastic round in the sack with me."

Kyle blushed and lashed out, flailing until he was sure he'd smacked Kenny in the head at least three times, "We are _not_ doing anything today! I have to go home!"

Kenny simply laughed at him, reaching around to grab Kyle's hips even as he squirmed and thrashed violently, "Aww, you sure?" And despite Kyle's screeched response of "yes," continued with, " 'Cause I could show you some _great_ things I know how to do with my fingers-"  
A loud bang sounded through the room, followed only a second later by the sound of a door being opened in a hurry.

Kevin waltzed into Kenny's bedroom, stopping in the center of the floor to stare at the pair on the bed, both of whom had frozen in place and were currently debating on whether or not disentangling themselves now would be worth it.

"Gay." Kevin announced, then turned around to begin rifling through the mess of things on top of Kenny's dresser.

Two sighs of relief were breathed. Apparently their flirtatious wrestling resembled regular boyish wrestling enough to have fooled Kenny's brother. They grinned as they moved away from one another, Kenny letting go of Kyle's hips while Kyle released the hair he'd been pulling with the intention of dragging Kenny into a kiss, or possibly a punch.

"What're you doing in my room, douchebag?" Kenny asked, with no real anger or concern in his voice.

Why didn't he knock, was what Kyle was more interested in, but since Kenny didn't seem too upset by the intrusion, he figured this was just the way things worked around the McCormick household.

"Watch your mouth, dickface." Kevin called over his shoulder, "And it's not your room, it's our room. All my shit's still in here."

It was true, Kyle noticed, that a lot of "Kenny's" room was occupied by Kevin's stuff. His bed was somewhere else, god knows where, but all of his other belongings were still sitting around among Kenny's things.

"Well what the fuck are you looking for?" Kenny asked in a bored tone, and snuck his hand just close enough to Kyle's that their fingers touched.

"My ID…" was Kevin's muttered response. He was now absorbed in the act of picking through the mismatched socks, bottles of cheap cologne and mysteriously broken combs that decorated the top Kenny's dresser.

With Kevin distracted, Kyle felt safe in linking his fingers with Kenny's, keeping their hands partially hidden, just in case Kevin turned around.

"Shantell want to go to the bar tonight, but the new guy workin' there is a total ass-wipe and won't let anybody in without ID." Kevin continued, then growled in frustration, apparently not finding the missing card.

"But it's a fake ID anyway." Kenny said, giving a half hearted look around the room as well, not wanting to be bothered with getting up to help Kevin search. Kyle followed suit, just to be polite, but didn't see much that was identifiable on the visible portions of Kenny's floor.

Kevin snorted and shrugged his shoulders, "Doesn't matter."

Kyle looked at Kenny questioningly, wondering if it really didn't matter, or if Kevin was just hoping that it wouldn't matter. Kenny shrugged a noncommittal response, then looked toward Kevin, who had opened the doors to Kenny's closet and was rifling through pockets of shirts that apparently belonged to him. Kyle hadn't seen Kenny wear any of them before, at least.

"And who's Shantell, anyway?" Kenny asked, a frown creasing his brow, making Kyle smile for no real reason other than the fact that he looked cute while doing it.

Kevin didn't look up from emptying the pockets on the jeans he was currently wearing as he answered, "This girl I know."

The room was quiet for a minute, and Kevin finally turned to look at his younger brother, an irritated expression on his face, "What?" he said, annoyed, although no one had said anything to him, "Lucy wasn't working out."

Kyle looked to Kenny, to see if he was perhaps giving his brother some kind of disapproving look, but found no trace of one.

"You mean she wasn't _putting_ out." Kenny said snidely, then glanced sideways at Kyle, looking almost embarrassed.

Kyle glanced up at Kevin and fought the urge to give him a nasty look. So _that's _how he was?

Kevin laughed bitterly and shrugged again, neither confirming nor denying Kenny's allegation, simply saying, "She was no fun. You woulda dropped her ass, too, don't even joke."

Kyle felt his hand being squeezed almost uncomfortably tight, and turned to see Kenny glaring at his brother.

"Dude, shut up. I so wouldn't-"

Kevin settled him with a knowing look and scoffed, "Like hell you wouldn't. You're no better than me, Ken."

With that, he walked out of the room, leaving Kenny's closet and dresser in a worse state than they'd started out, and slammed the door shut once more.

Moments later, Kyle heard a cry of, "_There's_ my fucking ID!" followed by a shrieked, "Watch your goddamn mouth!"

Kyle turned to Kenny, feeling uncomfortable with the situation as a whole, and asked, "What was he talking about?"

Kevin seemed like something of a dirtbag, and for him to suggest that Kenny was no better…well that just seemed like bullshit to Kyle. Kenny was sweeter than that, more caring, and…well, okay, slightly similar, but not to the point of being as bad as Kevin. From what he'd just seen, Kevin seemed to be the kind of guy who went through a girlfriend a week and didn't care whose feelings got hurt along the way. Kenny wasn't like that.

Kenny wasn't answering him.

"Kenny?"

Kenny looked up quickly, like he was coming out of a daydream, and smiled.

That smile was fake. Kyle knew it, and at the realization that he had seen that smile before, Kyle's stomach flipped and sank slightly, unpleasantly.

"Hm?" Kenny blinked up at him, then shook his head, "Ah, fuck if I know what Kevin's on about."

That wasn't an answer.

Kyle let it go.

"Yeah…no offense, but your brother kind of seems like a douchebag."

Kenny winced slightly, but Kyle didn't feel particularly bad.

"Hm…yeah." Kenny shifted, rolling his shoulders before turning to Kyle and grinning, honestly this time, "Now, I'm pretty sure I was just about to convince you to stay here and get naked…"

Kyle jumped slightly at that, cursing under his breath as he remembered that he was already supposed to be on his way home.

"No, dude, I seriously have to leave-" Kyle made to squirm away before Kenny could try anything, pulling his hand back and leaving Kenny's on the bed.

Kenny was just slightly too fast for him, catching him in a kiss before he could get much farther than placing a foot back on the floor. Kyle fell prey to the kiss, allowing Kenny to hold him there for a moment before pulling away and murmuring, "Kenny, really…I gotta go."

"Please."

Kyle barely heard it, Kenny whispered it so quietly.

"Kenny…I-"

Kenny kissed him again, softer, and brought his lips to Kyle's cheek, then his ear, "At least let me play with you a _little_."

Kyle flushed and swallowed hard, feeling a sudden and surprising lump in his throat. Kenny was trying to distract him. He was trying to ignore what had just been going on for some reason and that made Kyle curious, not to mention pissed him off. What the hell did Kenny have to hide, anyway? And why did he have to cover it up with sex, of all things?

The answer that was most readily available in his mind, the one that Kyle least wanted to think about, was that maybe Kevin was right.

"I said no!" Kyle snapped, and pushed Kenny away from him. The kicked puppy look Kenny gave him made him want to take it back and apologize, but he ignored that feeling in favor of settling his boyfriend with an angry look and demanding, "What the fuck is up with you?"

Kenny simply stared, eyes widening enough to make him look like a trapped animal.

"You're acting weird." Kyle said, his whole body tensing as if preparing for the worst.

Kenny smiled a sad smile (fake, Kyle thought,) and murmured, "I'm sorry."

"No you're not." Kyle said, and shut his mouth quickly. He hadn't meant to say that out loud, but it was exactly what he'd been thinking. Kenny wasn't being himself. He was putting on some kind of an act, and Kyle didn't like it.

"I am!" Kenny answered too quickly, brow furrowed in what looked more like frustration than remorse, "I just-"

"You just, what?" Kyle interrupted, his face getting hotter by the second, "Ignored what I said and tried to get what you want anyway? Thanks a fucking bunch, dude."

Kenny had the decency to look ashamed, though he countered with, "I thought we were just joking around!"

Kyle shook his head, forgoing a response to Kenny's statement in favor of emptying his mind of the things that had been plaguing it, "The whole time we've been going out…I really thought I was giving you everything you wanted. Unless maybe I'm just not putting out enough for you?"  
Kenny looked stricken at the reference to his brother's relationship. Kyle stayed very still, waiting, praying for him to respond with anger, to tell Kyle that he was all wrong and explain what was really going on here.

As Kenny's startled expression softened to something slightly sad, almost disappointed, he wouldn't meet Kyle's eyes.

He didn't answer.

Kyle asked, "Seriously?"

Kenny looked up at him, swallowed and moved his lips slightly, like he might speak, but said nothing.

_Fuck, was Kevin right?_

Kyle watched expectantly. Kenny was just embarrassed. Or uncomfortable. He'd answer. Kyle just had to give him a minute.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, was Kevin right?_

Everything Stan had implied before, all the things that Kyle had insisted weren't true, they had to be wrong.

"Are you just-I mean- you can't…" Kyle's voice cracked slightly and he swallowed the sound, "You're just _using_ me?"

Kenny jumped at that, raising his hands and shaking his head, "No!" He looked panicked, frantic, "Kyle, dude- I would never do that to you. I love you!"

Kyle digested that for a moment, frowning. It wasn't as though he didn't believe that Kenny cared about him. They were friends, and he knew for a fact that Kenny cared. But still, this whole relationship was slightly off. Kyle had known that from the start. It wasn't exactly normal for people to shower their significant other with gifts and expect nothing in return. And it wasn't exactly a good idea to give in when that significant other pressured them for sex.

"Never?"

Kenny stared back at him, mouth hanging slightly open. He shut it and smiled slightly, apologetically, "Never."

Fake.

It sounded so, so fake.

_Kevin was right. Fuck._

"Fuck."

When Kenny looked at him questioningly, all Kyle could do was stand up and pick up his shoes from where he'd left them beside Kenny's bed. He shoved them on, not bothering to fix the laces as they stuck out in odd directions.

"Kyle?"

Kyle shook his head. No. No, no, no. He couldn't do this. He couldn't put up with this. He couldn't be here anymore.

"I'm going home." He hissed, not looking at Kenny as he got up and walked across the room toward the door. He heard the mattress groan as Kenny got up as well, following after him.

"Wait, wait, hold on-"

"Go fuck yourself, Kenny." Kyle snapped, eyes fixed on the door in front of him, "Just…" He looked back to see Kenny standing not quite close enough, a pained expression on his face, and knew that it was a mistake. His chest hurt, his stomach clenched, his eyes stung- "Fuck!"

Kyle flung the door open and hightailed it out of Kenny's room, out of his house, ignoring the questioning calls of Kenny's mother as he full out ran out of the McCormick's front yard, past his dad's car, back toward the "good" side of town.

Fuck going home. He was going to Stan's to tell him he was right.

*

*

*

* * *

I realize that some of you might not be happy with this chapter's ending, but please be patient. There's a light at the end of the tunnel. Or possibly just a bugle stuck to your face. Either way, things will get better. On a side note, feel free to point out any stupid mistakes I make in the course of this fanfic so that I can correct them, and thank you again for reading and reviewing.


	10. Donkey Latin

It's been a while. Hopefully this chapter makes up for the major break.

South Park does not belong to me.

* * *

After Kyle left, Kenny lay back down in his bed and curled in on himself. The fetal position was the same one Kenny always found himself in when he came to life, although under the current circumstances, he felt a little more like he was dying.

Which, now that he thought about it, wouldn't be a bad way out of this. Dying, that is. Kenny didn't like the stabbing, shuddering pain in his chest, the low buzz of confusion in the back of his head, and simply playing in traffic to get himself out of here for a few days was beginning to sound like a good idea.

That'd sort of be taking the easy way out though, wouldn't it? Kenny had heard people say that that they just wanted to die after a breakup. In fact, he was pretty sure Stan had mentioned a theoretical suicide once or twice, but never seriously. Kenny was honestly considering it. But then, death was different for Kenny. He could throw himself in front of a moving truck and come back to life not too long after. That didn't mean he should do it, though. Breakups were a part of life, something to be sad about, but not something to kill yourself over.

If this was a breakup, even. He wasn't really sure what state his and Kyle's relationship was in. Although he was pretty sure "go fuck yourself," was about the equivalent of "I'm breaking up with you."

Maybe even, "Don't talk to me again," or "I hate you."

Kenny didn't want Kyle to hate him. That was the last thing he wanted. The thing he _most_ wanted was to go after Kyle, to chase him down and throw his arms around him and make things right, but that wasn't going to happen. Things didn't work that way and Kenny knew it. There had been a period of about three minutes, right after Kyle ran off, that Kenny spent pacing back and forth across his room, practically shaking, trying to decide if he should go after his angry boyfriend or not.

In the end, crawling into bed in a fit of angst had won out against following Kyle. Following him, Kenny was sure, would only lead to a harsher rejection. He'd fucked things up, that much was certain, and Kenny thought it would make perfect sense if Kyle never wanted to look at him again. Winning Kyle back wasn't an option for Kenny, winning at all wasn't an option for Kenny most of the time, so he readily collapsed into the old habit of simply enduring the pain of his own screw up. Putting up with unpleasant things was something Kenny had grown used to.

The fierce desire to fix things was _not_ something Kenny was used to. Even as he pulled the covers over his head and verbally abused himself for expecting anything better than this, Kenny could feel his heart racing, something inside him compelling him to get up, to move, to do something.

But what the hell could he do? Kyle hated him, with good reason, and Kenny had no way to make up for the ways he'd wronged him. All he could offer Kyle was an apology, and he wasn't even very good at those.

But maybe that'd be enough. Maybe. He could hope. Hope? He could pray, more like. With a groan of self-loathing, Kenny pushed off his blankets and forced himself out of bed, into his shoes. He pulled his hood up over his head and set out for Kyle's house, not sure what he was going to do when he got there.

**...**

What Kenny did when he got to Kyle's house was turn around and go back the way he'd come, so he could go to Stan's place instead.

Kenny had realized that Kyle left his dad's car outside of his house (not a good idea, considering the rough neighborhood, but whatever,) but had assumed that he'd just walked home out of anger. Apparently this was not the case. Upon reaching Kyle's house and knocking on the door, having forced himself to look calm and collected and not at all like a desperate, hysterical ex-boyfriend, Kenny was greeted by Kyle's mom. Looking less friendly than usual, Mrs. Broflovski told Kenny that Kyle had called and informed her that he was going to Stan's house. She also spent a minute or so complaining about how he should have come home for dinner, or at least let her know earlier, but Kenny largely ignored that part of the conversation. He was much too focused on a sensation something akin to the feeling of his stomach dropping down out of his body to splatter on the ground around his feet. Considering that he really had experienced the feel of his own stomach falling out before thanks to a bit of business with some slightly drunk historical reinactors, the flood of hopelessness and dread was strangely familiar.

The fact that Kyle had gone to Stan's instead of going straight home meant that he was more upset that Kenny had thought. For Kyle to physically move himself closer to his best friend in what was apparently his time of need, things had to be really wrong.

Cursing himself silently, Kenny had said goodbye to Kyle's mom as briefly and politely as he could (not politely enough to keep her from hmm-ing and haw-ing in distaste) and rushed off toward Stan's house instead.

...

Stan's mom answered the door with a much friendlier expression than Kyle's mom had, but one that was still wary.

"Hi, Kenny." She paused, watching him, "You know Kyle's here too, right?"

Kenny winced at that. Like she was warning him, he thought. She knew something was up, and she didn't want it all to get worse.

"Yeah, I…I have to talk to him actually. Um. Do you mind if I come in?"

Mrs. Marsh stepped aside, saying, "Of course not, of course not…" She cast a quick glance in his direction before looking to the stairs and calling, "Stanley!"

Kenny held his breath. Fuck, he hadn't even thought of Stan. Kyle was here, so he'd come here. But Stan was in the way. Stan would want to protect Kyle, might try to keep Kenny away, or even- no, Stan wouldn't start a fight. Stan was a pretty peaceful guy, a dirty hippie and all that. But he had a sharp tongue, and Kenny wasn't sure he could stand anyone reminding him of just how awful a person he was right now.

Mrs. Marsh called again, "Stanley?" And after a moment, a door upstairs creaked open, then shut. Stan appeared at the top of the stairs, dressed in plaid pajama pants and the shirt he'd worn to school that day, frowning. He looked tired, drawn, and Kenny instantly wanted to apologize for inadvertently sending an angry Kyle his way.

"Oh." Stan said, only walking down a few steps before stopping, his hand on the banister, "Hey Kenny."

Kenny waved up at him, smiling weakly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mrs. Marsh walking toward the kitchen, probably wanting to get away from what would assuredly be an awkward conversation. Kenny walked up to the foot of the stairs and stopped, hesitant to climb up in case Stan was entertaining thoughts of pushing him.

Thankfully, Stan came down to meet him, stopping one step above the floor, folding his arms as he leaned up against the wall to his left, still frowning. Still blocking the way. Stan was taller than Kenny on any given day, but to have to look up at him a few inches higher than usual was unsettling.

"I…Kyle's here, right?"

Stan tensed at that, but nodded, "Yeah." His tone was clipped, "I don't think he wants to see you though."

Fuck, Kenny thought, tear my heart out and pour some salt in the wound, why don't you? Stan was obviously pissed with him, and that was just complicating things further.

"Look, I don't know what Kyle told you, but we just had this huge misunderstanding, okay?" Kenny tried to keep his voice down, tried to stay calm. He couldn't help being a little annoyed himself, simply because Stan was making things difficult for him. He didn't blame Stan for wanting to protect his friend, but Kenny really wished that he'd just back off for once, "I want to apologize."

Stan rose his eyebrows at that, managing to look incredibly intimidating despite his generally friendly face and prettyboy haircut. Kenny had always thought of Stan as one of those kids in a horror movie, really adorable when they were smiling and innocent, but terrifying as soon as they showed their hidden, evil side. Right now, Stan's righteous anger was making him one of the scariest things Kenny had ever seen. Not quite as scary as his first meeting with Satan, but definitely up there.

"Dude…please." Kenny swallowed nervously, honestly concerned that Stan's pacifistic tendencies might soon take a backseat to his bad mood, then sighed in relief as he dropped his defensive stance.

"You really fucked up, dude."

Kenny bit at his bottom lip, nodding. He wasn't sure how much Kyle had told Stan- probably everything. And he'd probably made it sound so much worse than it was. Or at least, so much worse than Kenny had meant it to be.

"I know, I know," Kenny said quietly, almost frantically, "I gotta fix it."

Stan looked dubious. Fuck, maybe there was no fixing it after all?

"He's _seriously_ pissed, Kenny."

Kenny nodded again, but Stan shook his head, "No, dude- he's worse than pissed off. I mean, you really, _really_ fucked up."

Kenny flinched, curling inward a little as an awful, gnawing guilt settled in his stomach. Oh god, this was going to suck, "Is he, um…is he doing that thing…"

"…where he gets so mad he almost cries?" Stan offered, looking for a moment as though he were restraining himself, "Yeah."

"Fuck." Kenny glanced back toward the door, once again considering the option of playing chicken with a Mack truck.

"Pretty much." Stan sighed. He looked up to his bedroom door, then back at Kenny, appearing to think for a moment before saying, "He's not going to be happy to see you. But if you think you can fix it, go ahead."

Kenny could have kissed him. But he figured that wouldn't do much to smooth things over with Kyle, so instead he just offered a grateful smile. That smile fell as he tried to start up the stairs, only to find Stan blocking his path with one arm.

"If you make him cry, I'm gonna fucking kill you."

Stan spoke softly, seriously, without a trace of anger. Kenny shivered.

"Gotcha." He ducked under Stan's arm and hurried up the stairs, stopping in front of Stan's bedroom door and, for once, knocking lightly. He didn't look back at Stan, sure that if he did, he'd turn to stone, or maybe just die instantly.

...

Kenny leaned one shoulder against the doorframe and listened carefully for a response, but all he could hear was soft music filtering out from underneath Stan's door. He knocked again, a little louder, and after another moment or silence heard a voice.

"Um…who is it?"

Kyle's voice. Kenny's heart jumped in his chest. He wished he could tell the damn thing to stop acting up, to quit making him feel so edgy with its frantic pumping , and to let him relax and think rationally for a minute. But his heart refused to listen, only beating faster, and compelled him to, rather than answer, open the door and peek inside.

Kyle sat on the edge of Stan's bed, one hand poised at his side where he had, seconds ago, been tugging at a loose string in the blanket. His coat and shoes lay on the floor beside him, but his hat was still tugged snuggly over his ears. He stared at Kenny in what seemed disturbingly like fear, then pinned him with a cold glare, his face going pink in anger.

"What the fuck-"

Kenny didn't let him finish. He slipped into the room quickly and shut the door behind him. He leaned heavily against it, half-afraid that Stan was going to come back upstairs and kick his ass. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" Kenny said quickly, and put his hands up in mock defense, "I just wanted to uh…" He hung his head a little, the reality of what he was trying to do making him feel sick, "Apologize."

Kyle scoffed and promptly turned away, staring out the window, "Don't bother."

Kenny lowered his head further, and reached up to run a hand through his hair self-consciously. Who the hell did he think he was, anyway? Coming here to ask for Kyle's forgiveness, as if he deserved it. As if he stood a chance. As if they should actually be together. Who was he trying to kid?

Lifting over his own beaten down self-esteem, Kenny's voice was a near whisper, "Kyle…could you let me explain, at least?"

"Fine!" Kyle snapped, looking back at Kenny, expression suddenly fierce.

Kenny couldn't suppress a grin as he glanced up and caught sight of the look on Kyle's face. He should have known. Even if he had no confidence in himself, he should have expected this much from Kyle. Above his own anger, his own hurt feelings, Kyle would pursue knowledge. He was a know it all little busy body through and through, no matter how much he denied it, and even if he planned on dumping Kenny's sorry ass, he'd want to know _exactly_ what he was dumping him for.

"Okay."

"Just be fucking honest with me, alright?" Kyle continued, looking away from Kenny again as he stood up and began pacing, keeping to just a foot or so of space beside Stan's bed, "Don't give me any of that fake shit you pulled before!"

Kenny jumped slightly at that. Fake? Was he so obviously putting on an act? He'd always thought he made a convincing liar, but apparently Kyle could see right through him. The realization left him a little shaken, but he tried to ignore the feeling.

"Okay, okay," he said, taking a shy step forward, "No…no fake shit. Just the truth." He wouldn't even pull the puppy dog eyes trick, or put a quiver in his voice for dramatic effect. He took a deep breath. Apology. He had to give an apology. He breathed out, slowly, and began,

"I'm…sorry. If I made you feel bad, or pressured, or used, or anything, because I was definitely using you and being a complete dick about it. I'm sorry."

Kenny gave that half a second to sink in. Not quite long enough for Kyle to get up and punch him in the face in case the apology was inadequate, "I'm so, so sorry, because that's not the way you're supposed to treat people you care about, and I care about you a _lot_." He saw Kyle open his mouth and cut him off, "I love you, Kyle, and I want to be with you, I really do."

Kyle had stopped pacing and was standing with his shoulders slumped. Kenny imagined that he must be experiencing that same awful, heart tugging feeling he'd had corrupting his own insides for the past hour and a half. At least, he hoped that's what he was feeling, and the slight slump of his frame wasn't just due to a particularly heavy dose of hate.

"And if you won't have me, then we can just be friends- please. Just as long as I don't lose you, dude." Kenny swallowed roughly and forced a smile. Okay, being honest was one thing, but letting his emotions get the better of him and putting his entire inner-self on display was not something Kenny wanted to do. Desperate to protect his own feelings, Kenny rushed on, grinning stupidly, "We can start things over. Just think of it like- like I died again." He held one finger up to his head, firing an imaginary gun against his temple, and jerked his head to the side, "Oh my god, I killed myself, I'm a bastard," He snapped his head back up, looking at Kyle pleadingly, "But now I'm a whole new guy, doing this the right way, not fucking things up. Okay?" He let himself relax, shoulders drooping while his pained smile remained, "…okay?"

Kyle stared at him, unsure. He hesitated in opening his mouth, like a cat perched at the edge of a rooftop, usually so smug and sure, but afraid to move forward at the risk of taking an unexpected plunge.

"Let me think." He said finally, and Kenny nodded eagerly in agreement, then took a seat on the edge of Stan's bed. Thinking was good. Thinking at least meant that he had a chance.

But thinking also meant torture. As Kyle paced the room, eyes unfocused, lost in thought, Kenny squirmed. He jumped each time Kyle stopped at Stan's bookshelf and poked distractedly at the knick knacks and CD covers stacked there. He bit his lip each time Kyle seemed to glance his way, considering. He didn't know what to do with himself while Kyle contemplated their fate. He felt like he ought to leave, but he was afraid to go too far from the person he was trying so hard to hold onto. He stayed put on Stan's bed, twiddling his thumbs nervously.

"I don't want to stop being friends with you." Kyle said finally, carefully, from across the room.

Kenny jerked his head up, studying Kyle's expression. He still didn't look anywhere near happy, but the blotchy redness had faded from his cheeks, and his words brought hope. Kenny did a little victory dance inside his head. That was a definite step forward, even if it wasn't exactly what he wanted.

"And I do…like you. I really like you." Kyle bit his lower lip in a way that suggested he was holding something back, not giving Kenny the whole story. All victory dance music in his head petered out into a low, uneasy buzz to fill the silence.

"But?"

Kyle narrowed his eyes, making Kenny worry that he'd ruined everything all over again.

"You're a _dick_. That's all." he said sharply, but he didn't look nearly as angry as before, and that gave Kenny hope.

"You knew I was a dick." Kenny said softly, and smiled as Kyle finally walked back over to the bed and took a seat beside him, not nearly close enough to touch, but close enough to make Kenny feel a little better.

Kyle was tense as he sat down, holding himself tightly upright for a moment before sighing loudly, slouching his shoulders, "Yeah, I did. Doesn't mean you had to be such an asshole, though."

Kenny half-laughed, apparently more interested in twiddling his thumbs than actually looking at Kyle, "I'm a dick _and_ an asshole. I'm a lot of things."

Kyle shot him a nasty look, muttering, "Yeah, you are."

Kenny kept his mouth tightly shut, not wanting to smile or laugh or do anything to suggest that he wasn't taking this seriously. He was more serious about Kyle than he had been about anything. He just couldn't seem to convey that.

A silence stretched between them then, and Kenny was left alone with his thoughts. He frowned, thinking that if Kyle realized how badly he was torturing him by keeping quiet like this, he'd probably feel awful. Which would be somehow satisfying. And yet, thinking like that made him want to punch himself. Guilting Kyle into things was _not_ the way to make this work. He had to keep reminding himself of that.

"You didn't explain, though." Kyle said.

Kenny's heart thudded against his chest, mocking him with each pulse. _Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, you're-fucked, you're-fucked, you're-fucked_-

"Yeah…I guess I didn't." Kenny said, smiling awkwardly, and took a deep breath and held it. He let it out, eventually, in a sigh, "Um…"

"Why would you do that?" Kyle took over where Kenny trailed off, sounding more hurt than angry for only a moment before his frazzled nerves took over and added an accusatory, furious tone to his voice, "All that…using me! When you didn't even have to. You knew it was wrong, you said so yourself. I mean, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

Kenny wouldn't quite meet Kyle's eyes as he answered, "You know what's wrong with me."

The cold, lonely sound to his voice took its toll, softening Kyle's fierce glare until he looked something close to compassionate, "Don't give me that…tell me- _explain_ to me-"

"I just like feeling like somebody cares, alright?" Kenny interrupted, his voice catching a little on the last word, "I didn't mean to fuckin' _use_ you dude, I just- it was nice feeling like you were my best friend, and then my boyfriend. I like having somebody love me even though I'm a total fucktard and can't give what I get." His stance stiffened, shoulders rigid in an attempt to hide his anger and embarrassment. Then, with a sigh, the tension released and Kenny cocked his head to the side, looking tired and drawn, having experienced more shifting emotions in one day than he'd felt in weeks, "I don't want to argue anymore, dude. Just…tell me if I have a chance, okay? Am I getting a second chance?"

Kyle looked at him hard, not glaring as he'd done before, but staring so seriously, so intently that Kenny still wanted to crawl under a rock and hide. He kept up that stare for a moment before sighing and finally, _finally_ smiling, just the tiniest bit.

Kenny didn't smile back, afraid that he'd break whatever spell had just been cast, only swallowed nervously at the feel of his heart racing. God help him, he was going to have a fucking heart attack before this was through.

"You know, I like getting stuff for you." Kyle said, and cocked his head to the side to match Kenny's pose, "And _doing_ stuff for you. I live giving you gifts and taking you out to dinner and shit." He paused thoughtfully, and added, "And even though it _is_ kind of fucked up that you pressured me into sex," Kenny could have writhed in emotional anguish, "I was being _kind of_ a prude." He sighed, and Kenny sighed as well, out of relief, "And now I'm kind of overreacting."

He reached over and took Kenny's face in his hands, pulling his gently closer until he could lean forward and press his lips to Kenny's forehead in a light kiss. He leaned back and released Kenny, smirking, Kenny guessed, at his stricken expression, and said, "I just want us to have a normal relationship."

Kenny nodded eagerly in agreement, "Normal relationship."

"No more fucked up guilt tripping," Kyle added, looking him in the eyes.

"No guilt tripping, got it."

"More honesty." He said, losing his smirk.

"It's the best policy." Kenny agreed.

Kyle smirked again, looking quite pleased. "Sweet. Then your second chance starts now."

Kenny pulled him into a crushing hug, holding on tight enough that his own arms hurt, and knocking Kyle's hat askew in the process. After a bit of shoving and cursing, and eventually some laughter, Kyle hugged him back.

"You're a fucking spazz, dude." Kyle said affectionately, and laughed as Kenny tried, unsuccessfully, to hug him even tighter.

...

..

.

Eric Cartman heaved one breathy, pouty sigh, then another. And another, until Butters came and sat down beside him on the sidewalk to watch Stan, Kyle and Kenny make their way through the school parking lot.

"Somethin' wrong, Eric?" Butters asked, although judging from the sight before them, he could hazard a guess as to what had Eric in such a bad mood. Kyle and Kenny were holding hands, once again giving Eric cause to worry about their possibly gay, possibly freckled future offspring.

Cartman huffed in annoyance, shifting his position so he could rest his chin in one hand, and asked, "Did you know those two fags broke up?"

Butters blinked in surprise because, no, he hadn't known. But since Kyle and Kenny were holding hands now, he hardly thought it mattered.

"Oh. I…I guess they patched things up, huh?" He offered an optimistic little smile, which quickly fell at the sight of the glare he received.

"Butters! Why the _hell_ didn't I know about this?" He demanded, and barely gave Butters the time to shrug before answering himself, "Because those assholes are always trying to keep stuff from me! They never let me in on anything!"

Butters frowned and reached out a hand to pat Eric's shoulder comfortingly, "Aw, I wouldn't take it personal, Eric…"

Cartman fixed him with a deadpan expression, as if to say "Butters you are the dumbest person I've ever met," making Butters pull his hand away and smile in apology. Out loud, Cartman simply sneered, "Like I give a crap what those guys do." He shot another glance in the direction of his sort-of-friends, frowning as Stan gave Kenny a playful push, knocking him into Kyle, who hip-checked him back into Stan. "Fags."

Butters shrugged his shoulders again, since he didn't particularly mind the other boys carrying on like that. He was just glad to see that everyone was happy, and that Kyle and Kenny were obviously not broken up. As much as Cartman's threats of a world of little gay gingers unnerved him, he thought that Kyle and Kenny made an awfully good couple.

"This means I'll never get to try out _my_ plan to break them up!" Cartman complained, "And it was a really fucking good one, too. Stupid, inconsiderate dicks…"

Butters sighed and nodded. This, he could relate to. Whenever he had an evil plan in the works, someone always messed it up or beat him to it. It was just plain frustrating. Adopting Cartman's head-in-hands pose, he murmured, "And that meteor dust didn't even work."

On the other side of the parking lot, Stan called shotgun on the grounds that, should Kenny be allowed to sit in the front with Kyle, someone was going to get arrested for public indecency, and frankly, he didn't want to have any part in that. He took his place as co-pilot while Kyle looked on, laughing, and Kenny slid into the back seat. With a silent exchange of smiles by way of the rear view mirror, everything slipped back into place.

* * *

The end! Thanks for all the reviews and thank you to all of those who stuck with this story even though it took me forever and a day to finish it. I sincerely hoped you enjoyed it, and maybe, just maybe, I'll learn my lesson now and stick to one-shots.

Or I'll go work on the other two or three chapter fics I have in the works. Hm.


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